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Copyright, 1S99 

By Thomas Y. Crowell & Company 


MY UNCLE ~AND MY CURi 


CHAPTER I. 

T am such an exceedingly diminutive per- 
son that, 'except for the perfect propor- 
tion my head, feet, and hands bear to my 
stature, I should, in all likelihood, hear my- 
'self spoken of as a dwarf. But my face is 
neither so outrageously long nor ridiculously 
broad as are the faces we connect with dwarfs 
and such-like misshapen creatures, while, as 
for my extremities, there is many a fine lady 
would give her eyes to have them. 

For all that, I have often wept bitterly in 
secret over the puniness of my dimensions. 

I say in secret ; for though my body be 
Liliputian it enshrines a proud and aspir- 
ing soul, a soul that would scorn to betray 
its little weaknesses to every chance acquaint- 
ance — above all, to my aunt. At any rate, 
I felt that way when I was fifteen. But per- 
sons with stiffer tempers than mine have 


2 


MY DNCLE AND MY CURE. 


been forced to lower their crests before the 
vicissitudes, the cares, sorrows, joys, in a 
word, the discipline' of life. 

This aunt of mine was assuredly the most 
intolerable woman I have ever encountered. I 
thought her very ugly also — my experience 
was of too limited a character at the time to 
enable me to draw comparisons ; still, I believe 
my estimate of her in this respect was cor- 
rect enough. She had a vulgar face — all 
corners, — a shrill, harsh voice, a clumsy 
gait, and she was as tall as a steeple. It was 
simply ridiculous ! When I stood beside her 
I looked like an insect, a shrimp ; and when I 
spoke to her I had to throw my head back, 
as if I were trying to get a glimpse of the top 
of a poplar. She was of mean origin, and, 
like most people of her class, believed that 
brute force was the only thing in the world 
of any account ; and so she was never tired 
of pointing the finger of scorn at my insig- 
nificant little person. Oh, it was crushing ! 

The moral constitution of my aunt was on 
a par with the physical. It was composed 
mainly of irritability and churlishness, and 
had certain sharp angles which the unlucky 
persons who had to live with her knocked 
their heads against daily. 


MY UKCLE AND MY CUEE. 


3 


My uncle, a country gentleman whose stu- 
pidity had been the common topic of conver- 
sation among his neighbors, was induced to 
marry her through pure weakness of mind 
and character. He died shortly after the 
wedding, and therefore I had no opportunity 
of making his acquaintance. When I was 
old enough to reflect on matters I laid his 
early demise at the door of my aunt, who 
had energy enough to drive a whole regiment 
of husbands to the grave, letting alone a poor 
creature like my uncle. 

I was two years old when my parents went 
the way of all flesh, abandoning me to the 
tender mercies of circumstances, of life, and 
of — my family council.^ 

They left behind them a very satisfactory 
remnant of what had once been a great for- 
tune : some four hundred thousand francs 
invested in land, and bringing me in a pretty 
good income. 

My aunt expressed herself willing to take 

^The Conseil de Famille is a body having extensive juris- 
diction over minors and over such members of families as dis- 
play an incapacity for managing their properties, whom they 
can reduce to the condition of minors. It consists of six of the 
nearest relations of the minor and a justice of the peace. It can 
approve or disapprove of a marriage, sanction or forbid the sale 
of property, and exercise a general supervision over all the 
interests of its ward. — Tr. 


4 


MY UCNLE AND MY CUR^:. 


charge of me, not that she was at all fond of 
children ; but, as my uncle had been a wretched 
manager, my aunt was not in good circum- 
stances, and she saw with satisfaction that 
my entrance into her house would make life 
very easy for her. 

And what an ugly house my aunt’s house 
was ! — a huge, dilapidated structure in which 
no attention was paid to cleanliness and or- 
der; a dunghill in the yard around it, mud 
and hens and rabbits everywhere. Behind 
stretched a garden in which there seemed to 
be every plant in creation, all sprouting up 
pellmell without anybody taking the slightest 
notice of them. I really think if my aunt 
and I had not thought it as well to give some 
attention to the matter no gardener would 
ever have been seen pruning the trees or 
tearing up the weeds that grew in all direc- 
tions, just as they had a mind to. 

This virgin forest was an offence to my 
eyes, for, even when a child, a love of order 
was second nature with me. 

The name borne by the property was Le 
Buisson. It lay far back in the country, and 
was a mile and a half from the church and 
from a little village containing a score of cot- 
tages. Not a single chateau or villa or manor 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


5 


for five leagues round. We were entirely iso- 
lated from the world. Sometimes my aunt 
would go to C — , the nearest town to Le Buis- 
son. But it was only necessary for me to 
express a strong desire to accompany her for 
her to make up her mind never to take me 
there. The only incidents that broke the 
monotony of our lives a little were the 
arrival of the farmers with the quarter’s rent 
for their farms and the visits of the cure. 

Oh, what an excellent man my cure was ! 

He came to the house three times a week, 
having once, in a sudden fit of benevolent 
zeal, taken it into his head to stuff mine with 
all the knowledge he knew. He kept on to 
his task perseveringly, although I certainly 
used my best endeavors to try his patience. 
Not that I was specially dull-headed ; on the 
contrary, I learned with the greatest ease, 
but idleness was my pet failing. I loved it, 
cuddled it, and all the eloquence of the cure, 
as well as all his efforts to root out this plant 
of Satan from my soul, was so much lost 
labor. 

And next — and this was the most momen- 
tous point of all — my reasoning faculties 
developed rapidly. I carried on discussions 
with the cure that drove the poor man half 


6 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

crazy ; I sometimes took the liberty of advanc- 
ing opinions that often slighted and shocked 
his most cherished convictions. 

There was nothing I relished more than 
contradicting and teasing him, falling foul 
of all his beliefs, tastes, and assertions. 
This used to set my blood a-tingling and keep 
my mind on the alert. I rather suspect he 
felt pretty much the same as 1 did, and would 
have been seriously aggrieved if I had sud- 
denly given up my quibbling and lost my 
independent ideas. 

But I did not care, and my pleasure was at 
its height when I saw him jumping about 
upon his chair, ruffling his hair in desperation, 
and forgetting all the laws of propriety by 
stuffing snuff up his nose. This forgetfulness, 
however, never occurred except on occasions 
of the most critical character. 

Still, if he alone had been concerned, I 
believe I might have occasionally resisted 
this temptation of the devil, but my aunt 
had dropped into the unlucky habit of attend- 
ing my lessons, although she did not under- 
stand a word we were saying, and yawned at 
least ten times during the hour. 

Now, any sort of contradiction, even when 
it had nothing to do with her own unsightly 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 7 

person, worked my aunt up to madness, and 
her rage was intensified by the fact that she 
did not venture to say anything in the pres- 
ence of the cur6. Moreover, the spectacle of 
me presuming to argue with him appeared to 
her to be a monstrous inversion of the natural 
and moral order of the universe. I never 
made an attack on her point blank ; she was a 
brutal woman, and I dreaded blows. Still, the 
mere sound of my voice — and I rather pride 
myself on its softness and beauty — had a 
most disastrous effect on her acoustic organs. 

Now, considering the circumstances, it is 
easy to understand how impossible, how abso- 
lutely impossible it was to keep my love of 
mischief in check, when it enabled me to in- 
furiate my aunt and, at the same time, to tor- 
ment my cure. 

And yet I was so fond of this poor cur6 of 
mine ! — and knew perfectly well, that in spite 
of my trumpery sophistries, sometimes border- 
ing on impertinence, he had the very greatest 
affection for me. I was not only the flower 
of his flock, I was preeminently his favorite, 
his work, the child of his heart and brain, 
and, mingled with this fatherly love, was a 
strain of admiration for my abilities, my words 
and acts in general. 


8 MY UNCLE AND MY CUEE. 

He had set his heart upon his task, had 
taken a vow that he would train my mind and 
watch over me like my guardian angel, not- 
withstanding my wilfulness, logic, and skit- 
tishness generally. Besides, this task had 
speedily become the greatest charm of his 
life, the best, if not the only relaxation his 
monotonous existence allowed him. 

Eain or wind, hail or snow, hot or cold, 
stormy or calm, nothing could hinder the cure 
from appearing before me, punctual to the 
minute, his soutane tucked up as far as his 
knees, and his hat under his arm. I do not 
think I ever sav/ him with his hat on his head 
at any time during my life. This fancy of 
his for walking bareheaded in the open air, 
with a smile on his face for the passers-by, the 
birds, and the tufts of grass, amounted to an 
absolute passion. His plump, round body 
seemed to rebound from the earth, which he 
trod with a springy gait, apparently saying to 
her, ^^You are good, and I love you !” He 
was content with life, at peace with himself, 
at peace with the whole world. His kindly 
face, fresh and rosy, with its crown of white 
hair, used to remind me of those late roses 
that are still blooming beneath the first snows 
of winter. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 9 

When he entered the yard the hens and 
rabbits would run up at his call and devour 
the crumbs he Avas careful to slip into his 
pocket before leaving the presbytery. Per- 
riiie, the poultry-maid, tripped forward to 
make him her best courtesy, and then Suzon, 
the cook, lost no time in opening the door 
and showing him into the draAving-room, 
where we had our lessons. 

My aunt, sitting bolt upright in her arm- 
chair, as stiff as a poker and about as grace- 
ful, would rise when she saw him, give him 
a surly welcome, and at once dash headlong 
into the history of my transgressions. After 
this she dropped down with the same un- 
bending rigidity, took her knitting in her 
fingers, her favorite cat on her lap, and 
waited, though she did not always wait, for a 
favorable opportunity to give me a piece of 
her mind. The good cure listened patiently 
to the shrill, harsh voice that set his teeth on 
edge. He bent his head modestly, as if the 
lecture were meant for himself, and, half- 
smiling, shook his finger at me. Thank 
Heaven, he knew my aunt of old! 

We took our places at a little table near 
the windoAv. This position had a double 
advantage : it kept us at a distance from my 


10 MY UKCLE AKD MY CURE. 

aunt, who sat enthroned at the back of the 
room, near the chimney-piece, and, at the 
same time, allowed me to follow the move- 
ments of the flies and the flight of the 
swallows in summer, while in winter I could 
observe the effects of the snow and rime on 
the trees in the garden. 

The cur4 set his snuff-box down beside 
him, placed his checked handkerchief on an 
arm of his chair, and we began. 

When I was not inclined to be excessively 
idle matters took a good turn, at least as long 
as the point at stake was the correcting of 
my exercises ; for, although I made them as 
short as possible I always worked hard at 
them. I wrote a good hand, and had a fluent 
style. The cure manifested his approval by 
frequently nodding his head, took snuff 
enthusiastically, and said repeatedly, Good ! 
Very good ! ’’ in all the tones of the gamut. 

And during the whole time I was making 
a mental calculation of the number of stains 
on his soutane, and asking myself how he 
would look in a black wig, tight breeches, and 
a red velvet coat, like the articles worn by 
my grandfather in his portrait. 

And the idea of the cure in wig and 
breeches was so comical that I roared. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 11 

Thereupon my aunt screeched out, You 
little fool ! Oh, you idiot ! ” and other compli- 
ments of the sort, more expressive than polite. 

The cure looked at me with a smile, and 
repeated two or three times, ^^Ah, youth, 
youth ! What a thing it is to be young ! ” and 
he sighed gently, recalling some memory of 
the time, perhaps, when he was fifteen. 

But the recitation came next, and tlien 
things did not go on so swimmingly. It was 
the critical moment, the time for question 
and answer, interchange of personal opinions, 
discussions, nay, even disputes and high 
words. The cure had a passionate admira- 
tion for the heroes of antiquity and for those 
almost fabulous feats in which physical cour- 
age turned the scale. This fancy of his was 
rather queer, as he was not made exactly of 
heroic stuff himself. 

I had noticed that he did not care to return 
home at night, and the discovery, while ren- 
dering me fonder of him than ever, — for I 
am a miserable little coward myself, — con- 
vinced me I was not laboring under any rnis- 
take in my estimate of his courage. Indeed, 
that calm, sedate soul of his had never even 
dreamed of martyrdom, never in the world. 
It was too much attached for that to the 


12 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


unruffled routine of its existence, to the flock 
it loved, and, in fact, to the body in which it 
dwelt. I have seen him turn as pale as his 
rosy cheeks allowed when he happened to be 
reading about the tortures inflicted on the 
early Christians. 

He thought it a very grand thing to jump 
into Paradise with one heroic leap, but he 
was quite content to jog along quietly toward 
eternity without fatigue or haste. He had 
none of those divine paroxysms that fill with 
a longing for death those who would behold 
the Ruler of time and creation at the earliest 
moment. Oh, by no means ! He had made 
up his mind to depart without a murmur 
when his hour arrived, but he was sincerely 
hopeful it would be postjjoned to as late a 
date as possible. 

I must acknowledge that excess of courage 
is not my strong point, so that this gentle and 
easy-going way of thinking suited me to a 
shade. 

Nevertheless, he would never give up his 
heroes. He admired, exalted, loved them the 
more, perhaps, that he knew full well if the 
opportunity offered he was not at all likely 
to imitate them. 

As for myself, I shared neither in his tastes 


3IT TTSCI^ AXD MY CCBE- 


18 


nor in his admiratuHi. These Greeks and 
Romans of his aroosed myntmost aversion, 
Bt an odd freak of mT whimsical :^ncy I 
had come to the conclusion that the latter 
resembled my annt^ — or my annt resembled 
them, just as yon like. — and the rery moment 
this afSnity was established the Romans 
were tried, condemned, and executed forerer 
after. 

HoweTer, the cure was determined we 
should daUde in Roman history, ami I was 
as determinedjon my side to hare nothing to 
do with it. The great men of the Repablie 
did not awaken my sympathies in the slightest, 
and I could not teH cme emperor from an- 
other. It was all Tery well for the cure to 
burst into admiring exclamations, to pass 
from anger to argument and riee rena, it was 
impossible to shake me out of my indifference 
and my own way of looking at things. 

Ebr instance, I eonclnded my recital of the 
story of Mucius Scaerola with this rema^ : 

‘^He punished his ri^t hand because it 
made a mistake. What an idiot he most have 
been! ’’ 

The cure, who had been listening to me the 
moment before with an air of entire content, 
started up, indignant. 


14 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

“ An idiot, mademoiselle ? And why, 
pray ? ” 

“ Because the loss of his hand did not re- 
pair the mistake,” I answered. ^^It did not 
hinder Porsenna from being alive and kick- 
ing, and the poor secretary was not any the 
better for it, either.” 

^^Well, perhaps you’re right, little one ; 
but it so alarmed Porsenna that he raised 
the siege immediately.” 

“ Which only shows, M. le Cure, that your 
Porsenna was a dastard.” 

Even so. Still, Pome was delivered, and 
thanks to whom ? Thanks to Scsevola and his 
heroic deed ! ” 

And the cure, who would shiver at the 
mere notion of burning the end of his little 
finger, and was, therefore, perhaps the more 
inclined to sing the praises of Mucins Scsevola, 
strained every nerve to get me to appreciate 
his hero. 

“ I stand by what I have said,” I returned 
calmly ; he was simply an idiot, an out-and- 
out idiot ! ” 

And then the cure gasped out with diffi- 
culty : 

When children take to reasoning, men 
must expect to hear a good deal of nonsense.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


15 


M. le Cure, you taught me only the other 
day that reason is one of our noblest faculties.” 

Of course, of course, when we know how 
to make use of it ; but I was then speaking of 
full-grown men and not of little girls.^’ 

“ M. le Cure, the little bird tests its powers 
on the edge of its nest.” 

The worthy cure was evidently rather put 
out, and ruffled up his white hair with such 
energy that his head looked not unlike the 
mop of a broom, if the mop were powdered. 

You are too fond of arguing, my child,” 
he would sometimes say ; it is a sin of pride. 
I shall not be always here to answer you, 
and when you are face to face with life you 
will learn that endurance and not argument 
must be your weapon.” 

Life indeed ! It was but little I cared for 
life ; as long as I had a cure to exercise my 
logic on I had all I wanted. 

When I had teased and plagued and har- 
assed him to the top of my bent he made 
vain endeavors to assume an expression of 
severity. He had to give the attempt up, for 
his mouth always smiled and refused abso- 
lutely to obey his will. 

Thereupon he used to say : 

Mademoiselle de Lavalle, you will go over 


16 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUE^J. 


your Eoman emperors again, and in such a 
way, I hope, as not to confuse Tiberius with 
Vespasian.’’ 

Oh, M. le Cure,” I answered, let us drop 
these tiresome people, they bore me ! Why, 
you know if you had lived in their time they 
would have broiled you alive on a gridiron, or 
torn out your tongue and nails, or chopped 
you up into mincemeat ! ” 

At this gloomy picture the cure started 
slightly, and, without deigning a reply, he 
tripped out of the room. 

I knew that when he called me “ Made- 
moiselle de Lavalle” his displeasure had 
reached its climax. This ceremonious title 
was the strongest proof of his dissatisfac- 
tion, and I always felt remorseful, until I 
saw him coming again, with his disordered 
hair and smiling lips. 


CHAPTER II. 

M y aunt abused me shamefully when I 
was a child, and I had such dread of 
blows that I obeyed her orders without ever 
venturing to dispute them. 

She beat me even on the very day when I 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


17 


reached my sixteenth year, but it was for 
the last time. From that day, a day fruitful 
in events of personal interest, a revolution 
that had been smouldering in the depths of 
my soul for some months suddenly burst 
into flame and completely altered my relations 
with my aunt. 

At this time the cure and I were reviewing 
the history of France, and I cherished the 
notion that I knew it pretty well. In fact, 
taking into account the gaps and expurgations 
of my book, my knowledge of it was as good 
as I could very well have acquired. 

How, the love the cur4 professed for our 
kings bordered on adoration, and yet he did 
not like Francis I. This antipathy of his 
was the more extraordinary, as Francis was a 
valiant knight and has always been popular. 
But he was not to the taste of the cur4, who 
never lost an opportunity of criticising him, 
and so, in a spirit of contradiction, I chose 
him for my favorite. 

On the day to which I have previously 
alluded, the lesson I had to recite dealt with 
this new friend of mine, and I spent a part 
of the day before in trying to discover some 
way of dazzling the cure’s eyes with his 
glory. Unfortunately I could only repeat 


18 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

the words in my history, backing them up 
with opinions that were based more on feeling 
than reason. 

I must have been cudgelling my brains for 
more than an hour when a brilliant idea 
flashed on my mind. 

The library ! ’’ I exclaimed. 

Without a moment’s delay I rushed down 
a long corridor, and, for the first time in my 
life, entered a moderate -sized room, the walls 
lined with shelves and covered with books, 
which were knit together by a multitude of 
delicate cobwebs. 

It communicated with the apartments of 
my uncle, which had never been opened since 
his death ; it smelt so close and mouldy that 
I was almost suffocated. I quickly threw 
open the window, which was very small and 
had neither shutters nor blinds ; it looked out 
on the most neglected corner of the garden. 

And then I proceeded to investigate. But 
what chance had I of discovering Francis I. 
among all these volumes ? 

I was nearly giving it up when a little 
book met my eyes, and I shouted for joy. 
It contained the biographies of the kings of 
France who reigned before Henry IV. A 
fairly good portrait of Francis I. in the splen- 


:my uncle and my cure. 19 

did costume of the Valois preceded his biogra- 
phy. I examined it with astonishment. 

“ Is it possible/’ I said to myself, in my 
surprise, that such handsome men are in 
existence ? ” 

The biographer, who did not share the cure’s 
dislike of my hero, gave him unlimited praise. 
He spoke with sincere enthusiasm of his 
beauty, valor, his chivalrous nature, and his 
enlightened protection of literature and art. 
He concluded with a few lines on his private 
life, and I learned a thing of which I had been 
entirely ignorant before, namely, that 

‘^Francis I. led a joyous life and was pro- 
digiously fond of women. ' But his preference 
was largely and sincerely in favor of the 
beautiful Countess Anne, to whom he gave 
the county of lltampes, raising it to the rank of 
a duchy, in order to render himself very pleas- 
ing to her, — ^ pour lui etre moult agreable.’ ” 
From these words I deduced the following 
conclusions : In the first place, as I had dis- 
covered a month ago that I was having a very 
dull time of it, that I was in need of many 
things, and that the possession of a cure, an 
aunt, hens, and rabbits was not enough of 
itself to ensure a person’s happiness, it was 
plain to me that, since a joyous life Avas the 


20 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

very reverse of mine, Francis I. showed great 
judgment in going in for it. 

In the second, that he must have, certainly, 
been well grounded in the holy virtue of 
charity preached by my cur6, since he was so 
fond of women. 

In the third, that Countess Anne was a 
lucky person, and I should have been well 
pleased if some king had given me a county 
and raised it to the rank of a duchy, in order 
to be moult agreable ” to me. 

Bravo!’’ I cried, throwing the book up 
to the ceiling and catching it nimbly again. 

I have all I need for bringing the cure to a 
stand and converting him to my opinion.” 

I read the little biography over again in my 
bed at night. 

‘‘What a fine man this Francis I. must 
have been ! ” I said to myself. “ But how is 
it the author speaks only of his affection for 
women ? How is it he says nothing of his 
fondness for men ? Well, every man to his 
taste ! But if I am to judge of women by 
what I see of my aunt I fancy I should have 
a very decided preference for men, myself.” 

Then it occurred to me that the biographer 
belonged to the male sex, and that, from a 
feeling of amiability and modesty, he had 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


21 


thought it due to courtesy to say as little as 
possible of those of his own gender. 

And, with this luminous idea in my head, I 
fell asleep. . ' 

When I rose the next morning I was in a 
very contented frame of mind. In the first 
place, I was sixteen ; in the second, the face 
of the small figure which my looking-glass 
reflected was not unpleasing by any man- 
ner of means. Next, I spun two or three 
times round on my heel when I thought 
of how my newly acquired knowledge would 
embarrass the cure. 

I was so impatient that I had taken my 
seat at the table long before he entered, ruddy 
and smiling as usual. As soon as I saw him 
my heart beat a little faster, as a great cap- 
tain’s does on the eve of battle. 

‘‘And now, my child,” said he, when the 
exercises were corrected and the expression of 
his countenance had told me what he thought 
of their laconism, “ let us pass to Francis I. 
and examine him from every point of view.” 

Making himself as comfortable as he could 
in his arm-chair, he took his snuff-box in one 
hand, his handkerchief in the other, and pre- 
pared for the discussion he knew could not 
be avoided. 


22 MY UNCLE AND MY CUEE. 

I was ready. I charged right down on my 
subject. I grew excited, impassioned, enthu- 
siastic. I dwelt largely on the qualities de- 
scribed in my history; then I passed on to 
the special information I had recently im- 
bibed. 

^^And oh, M. le Cure, what a charming 
man he was ! His figure was majestic, his 
face noble and beautiful, and his pointed 
beard was so pretty, and his eyes were so 
fine ! ” 

I paused a moment to recover breath ; and 
the cure, absolutely scared out of his wits, 
jumping bolt upright like one of those little 
imps on wires enclosed in pasteboard boxes, 
cried : “ Where did you get all this trash, 
mademoiselle ? ’’ 

That ’s my secret,” I answered, with a 
little mysterious smile, and burning my boats 
behind me. ^^M.'le Cure, I don’t know what 
harm this poor Francis I. ever did you. Are 
you aware that he had a great deal of com- 
mon sense ? He led a joyous life and was 
prodigiously fond of women.” 

Then the eyes of the cure opened so wide 
that I dreaded they would start out of his 
head. Saint Michael ! Saint Barnabas ! ” 
he ejaculated, and his snuff-box dropped out 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 23 

of his hand, making such a clatter that the 
cat leaped from the chair where it was lying, 
with a piercing wail. 

My aunt, who was sleeping, woke up with 
a start, and cried : You vile wretch ! ’’ 

This was intended for me, not for the cat, 
although she had not the slightest idea what 
was the trouble. But it was a phrase with 
which she invariably opened and ended all 
her discourses. 

Most assuredly I had hoped to produce a 
great impression, but this was more than I 
bargained for ; the extraordinary change in 
the face of the cure frightenec^^ me a little. 

However, after a few moments I went on, 
composedly : He was particularly fond of a 
beautiful lady to whom he gave a duchy. 
You must really acknowledge, M. le Cure, 
that he was very kind-hearted and that it 
would be delightful to be in the place of 
Countess Anne ! 

Holy Mother of God,” murmured the 
cure in a choking voice, the child is pos- 
sessed ! ” 

What is the matter ? ” cried my aunt, 
running one of her knitting-needles through 
her back hair. Turn her out if she dares 
to be impertinent.” 


24 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

My child/’ continued the cure, where 
did you come across all you have just been 
telling me ? ” 

“ In a book,” I answered curtly, not saying 
anything about the library. 

And how came you to repeat such abom- 
inable things ? ” 

Abominable things, indeed ! ” I returned, 
scandalized. What, M. le Cure ! in your 
eyes it was an abominable thing for Francis I. 
to be generous and to love women ? Upon 
my word ! So then you do not love them, 
M. le Cur4 ? ” 

What is^she saying ? ” howled my aunt, 
who had been for some moments an attentive 
listener, and considered this last question of 
mine simply awful in its direful significance. 

You bold-faced jade ! You ” — 

Hush, my good lady, hush ! ” interrupted 
the cure, apparently relieved from a heavy 
weight. Allow me to come to an explanation 
with Heine. Let us see — tell me what has 
struck you as particularly praiseworthy in 
the conduct of Francis.” 

In truth, t'he whole matter is very 
simple,” I answered somewhat scornfully, 
for I was beginning to think my cure was 
showing signs of his age and getting just a 


MY UNCLE AND My' CURE. 


25 


little dull-witted. J^’ot a day passes that 
you don’t preach me a sermon on the love 
of our neighbor, and surely Francis I. was 
always acting on your favorite maxim : ^ Love 
your neighbor as yourself for the love of 
God ! ’ ” 

The words were hardly out of my mouth 
before the cure, wiping off the big drops of 
perspiration that rolled down his cheeks, fell 
back in his chair, and, his two hands crossed 
on his stomach, gave way to a fit of Homeric 
laughter of such a length that it brought tears 
of anger and rebellion to my eyes. 

‘‘ I see,” I said, my voice trembling, “ it 
was very ridiculous in me to take such pains 
with my lesson and try to prove to you that 
Francis I. was worthy of your admiration.” 

“ My dear little child,” said he, as soon as 
he had regained his composure, using the form 
of address he always employed when he was 
pleased with me, which, considering the cir- 
cumstances, rather surprised me, my dear 
little child, I was not aware you set so high 
a value on those who practise the virtue of 
charity.” 

At any rate, I don’t see what there is to 
laugh at,” was my sulky answer. 

Oh, come now ; we must not get angry ! ” 


26 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


And the cur6, giving me a little pat on the 
cheek, broke off the lesson, said he would re- 
turn next day, and started to capture the key 
of the library, for he knew where my erudi- 
tion came from, although I had no suspicion 
of it. 

He was not yet out of the yard when my 
aunt made a rush at me and shook me by the 
shoulder until it was half out of joint. 

“ You — you wretched chatterbox ! What 
have you been saying, what have you been 
doing, to drive the cure away so early ? ” 
Why do you fly into such a passion,’’ said 
I, “ when you don’t know anything at all 
about what occurred ? ” 

‘‘ Ah ! I don’t know ? I did not hear what 
you said to the cure, you shameless girl ? ” 
As she stood in need of more than words to 
slake her anger, she gave me several sound 
boxes on the ear and elsewhere, and then 
bundled me out of the room with no more 
ceremony than if I had been a little dog. 

I fled to my chamber, where I bolted my- 
self in securely. My first care was to take 
off my gown and verify in the looking-glass 
the blue marks the hard, bony fingers of my 
aunt had left on my shoulders. 

You mean little slave ! ” I said, shaking my 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 27 

fist at my image, are you going to stand this 
sort of thing forever ? Are you such a base 
coward as to be daunted by the mere thought 
of a revolt ? ” 

I took myself to task in this stern fashion 
for a few moments ; then the reaction came, 
and, falling upon a chair, I broke into a fit of 
weeping. 

“What have I done,’’ I thought, “to be 
treated in this way ? Was there ever such 
an odious woman ? And why did the cure 
look so queer when I was reciting my 
lesson ? ” 

And I had to laugh, though the tears 
were still streaming down my cheeks. The 
problem was too much for me. No use 
beating my brains about it — I had to give 
it up. 

Drawing near to the open window, I gazed 
sadly out on the garden, and was beginning 
to regain my self-control, when I thought I 
recognized my aunt’s voice ; she was talking 
to Suzon. I leant forward so as to hear what 
they were discoursing about. 

“You are wrong,” Suzon was saying; “the 
girl is a child no longer. If you abuse her as 
you are doing she will complain to M. de 
Pavol, and in that case you’ll lose her.” 


28 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


I ’ll believe that when I see it ! A great 
likelihood of her thinking of her uncle ! 
Why, she scarcely knows of his existence ! ” 

■ ^‘Bah ! She ’s a sly little thing, she is ! It 
will take but mighty little to jog her memory, 
and then, if you make her unhappy, where 
are you? She’ll go, and the nice income 
you get through her, along with her.” 

Well, well, that ’s yet to be seen. I won’t 
beat her again, but ” — 

They separated, and I could not hear the 
end of the sentence. 

After dinner, at which I did not put in an 
appearance, I went to look for Suzon. 

Suzon had been my aunt’s friend before 
becoming her cook. They fell out ten times 
every day, but could not get along without 
each other, for all that. I may not be 
believed when I say that Suzon had a sincere 
affection for her mistress, but it is the exact 
truth. 

However, though she may have forgiven 
my aunt her rise on the social ladder, as far 
as it concerned herself personally, she must 
have held, her neighbor and things in general 
responsible for it, for she was continually 
grumbling and croaking. She was as grim 
visaged as a highway robber, and always wore 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 29 

a short petticoat and flat shoes, although she 
never went to town to sell milk, and her 
imagination did not lead her a dance, like 
that of Perrette. 

So, then, Suzon,’^ said I, confronting her 
in my most impressive manner, ‘‘ I am rich, 
am I not ? ” 

^‘Who has been putting such nonsense in 
your head, mademoiselle ? ’’ 

That’s no affair of yours, Suzon, but I 
insist on your answering and telling me also 
where my uncle De Pavol lives.” 

You insist — insist, indeed! Upon my 
word, there are no children nowadays ! Go 
about your business ; I shan’t tell you any- 
thing, because I don’t know anything. There !” 

You know you are lying, Suzon ; besides, 
I cannot allow you to address me in such a 
tone. I heard your talk with my aunt only a 
short while ago.” 

‘‘Then, mademoiselle, if you did, there is 
no reason why you should ask me to speak 
about it.” 

Suzon turned her back and refused to 
answer a single question. 

I went again to my room in anything but a 
good temper, and, resting my elbows on the 
sill of the window, I called the moon, the 


30 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


stars, the trees, to witness the irrevocable 
determination to which I had come. Never 
again should I allow my ears to be boxed, 
never again should I be afraid of my aunt, 
and never again should I omit any opportu- 
nity that my ingenuity could supply of being 
disagreeable to her — never ! 

And, with the petals of a flower which I 
was plucking and dropping from my hand, 
I flung to the winds all the hesitation and 
fear and timidity that I felt in other days. 
Then I knew I was no longer the same per- 
son, and I sank to slumber, consoled. 

During the night I had a dream : my aunt, 
transformed into a dragon, assaulted Francis 
I., and, with his mighty sword, the hero clove 
her head in twain. He caught me up in his 
arms and bore me off, the cur6 looking on 
despairingly, and wiping his face with his 
checked handkerchief. Then he wrung it out 
with all his strength, and the perspiration ran 
down from it in streams, as if he had steeped 
it in the river. 


MY TJKCLE AND MY CUKE. 


81 


CHAPTER HI. 

S CARCELY were the cure and I seated the 
next morning .at our table when the door 
was dashed open and Perrine appeared, with 
her hat hanging over her shoulders. 

Is the house on fire ? ” asked my aunt. 
‘^Ho, madame, but the devil is among us, 
sure enough ! The cow has got into the 
barley-field, which looked so promising ; she 
is ruining everything and I can’t get at her ; 
the capons are all on the roof ; and the rab- 
bits in the kitchen garden.” 

“ In the kitchen garden ? ” cried my aunt, 
leaping to her feet and looking at me with 
fury in her eyes, for the aforesaid garden was a 
sacred spot, and the object of her solitary love. 

And my fine capons, too ! ” groaned 
Suzon, who thought it proper to come on the 
scene also, and unite her harsh cackle to the 
shrill tones of her mistress. 

“ Oh, you reptile ! ” screamed my aunt. 

She hurried after her servants, slamming 
the door behind her in her rage. 

“ M. le Cure,” I hastened to say, do you 
think the entire universe holds another 
woman as abominable as my aunt ? ” 


32 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

Eh, my dear child ? What do you mean 
by that ? ’’ 

^‘Do you know what she did yesterday, 
M. le Cure ? She beat me ! ’’ 

Beat you ? ’’ repeated the cur4 incredu- 
lously, for it seemed to the good man utterly 
impossible that any one should lay a finger, 
except in the way of kindness, on such a deli- 
cate little body as myself. 

Yes, beat me ; and if you doubt my word 
I am going to show you the marks of the 
blows.” 

And I began at once to unbutton my gown. 
The cure turned his eyes away in terror. 

There ’s no necessity, no necessity ! I 
take your, word for it,” he cried hurriedly, 
his face crimson and his eyes modestly low- 
ered to the tips of his boots. 

Beat me on the very day I was sixteen ! ” 
I returned, fastening the loosened buttons. 
“ Do you know, I loathe her ! ” 

And I struck the table with my fist, and it 
hurt horribly, too. 

‘‘ Come, come, my child, do try to be calm,” 
said the cure with emotion. Tell me what 
you did.” 

Did ? Nothing at all ! Just when you 
left she called me a shameless girl and threw 


Mr UNCLE AND MY CURE. 33 

herself on me like a fury. Oh, hut she is an 
abominable woman ! ’’ 

‘‘ Now, now, E-eine, really — You know 
we are bound to forgive injuries.^’ 

Ah, you don’t say so ! ” I cried, kicking 
back my chair and stalking up and down the 
room. “ Forgive her ? Never ! ” 

The cure now rose also and stepped out 
from the side in front of me ; so our dialogue 
went on without pause as we passed from end 
to end of the apartment, crossing each other 
every time, like the Ogre and Jack the Giant- 
killer, when Jack stole the seven-league boots 
and the Ogre pursued him. 

But Eeine, you ought to be reasonable and 
accept your humiliation in a spirit of peni- 
tence, for the remission of your sins.” 

My sins ! ” I said, halting, and slightly 
shrugging my shoulders ; “ you know well, 
M. le Cure, they are so trifling it ’s scarcely 
worth while speaking about them.” 

^‘Indeed ! ” rejoined the cure, who could 
not repress a smile. Then, as you are a 
saint, you must bear your afflictions patiently 
for the love of God.” 

^•By my honor, no!” I answered, with 
decision. Nothing pleases me better than 
to love God — a little — not too much, — oh I 


34 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

you need n’t frown, M. le Cure, — but I ex- 
pect him to love me enough not to like to 
see me miserable.” 

What a madcap ! ” cried the cur6. And 
it is I who am responsible for her educa- 
tion ! ” 

^^In a word,” I continued, resuming my 
march, I will be revenged, and revenged I 
shall be ! ” 

Reine, all this is very wrong. Be silent 
and attend to me.” 

Vengeance is the delight of the gods,” I 
answered, leaping up to catch a big fly that 
was whisking round above my head. 

^‘Now, my dear child, let us talk seri- 
ously.” 

Never was I more serious in my life,” 
said I, stopping a moment in my course 
before a glass and discovering, not without 
some complacency, that a little excitement 
was rather becoming to my complexion. 
^‘You’ll see, M. le Cur6 ! I intend getting a 
sabre and decapitating my aunt, as Judith 
did to Holofernes.” 

' The child is out of her senses ! ” cried 
the cure hopelessly. ^^Will you be quiet, 
mademoiselle, and stop your rigmarole ? ” 

Of course — to please you, M. le Cure ; 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 35 

but you admit, then, that Judith was no 
better than she ought to be ? ” 

The cure backed up against the chimney 
and delicately introduced a pinch of snuff into 
his nostrils. 

Allow me, my dear. It all depends on 
the point of view.^’ 

And you call yourself logical ! ’’ I re- 
torted. You call the deed of Judith sub- 
lime, because she delivered some wretched 
Jews who were not worth two straws, and 
who ought to have but little interest for you, 
since they have been dead and buried time 
out of mind ! And you think it very wrong 
in me to do the same for my own deliverance ! 
And God knows I am very much alive ! ” I 
added, whirling round several times on my 
heels. 

^^You have a good opinion of yourself,” 
said the cure, who was doing his best to look 
stern. 

Oh, yes, indeed, an excellent one ! ” 

Hum ! Well, are you willing to listen to 
me now ? ” 

I am sure,” I went on, following my train 
of thought, Holofernes was a far pleasanter 
person than m}^ aunt, and, if we had met, he 
and I would have been hand and glove. Con- 


36 ]VIY UNCLE AND MY CUBE. 

sequently, I don’t see what is to hinder me 
from imitating Judith.” 

Eeine ! ” cried the cure, stamping on the 
floor. 

My dear cure, don’t get angry, I beg ; 
you may feel assured that I have abandoned 
my intention of killing my aunt ; I have dis- 
covered another method of vengeance.” 

Well, tell me what it is,” answered the 
worthy man, already mollified, and sinking 
on a sofa. 

I sat down beside him. 

It ’s this : you have heard of my uncle 
De Pavol ? ” 

Certainly ; he lives near V — . ” 

Very well, then. How is his estate 
called ? ” 

“ Le Pavol.” 

“ Then if I addressed a letter to the Chateau 
de Pavol, near V — , the letter would arrive 
safely ? ” 

“ Decidedly.” 

Well, then, vengeance is within my grasp. 
You know that though my aunt does not 
love me she has no objection to pocketing 
my money?” 

^^But, child, where did you find all this 
out ? ” said the cure, bewildered. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 37 

“ I heard it from lierself, so it ’s a dead cer- 
tainty. There is nothing she dreads so much 
as that I should appeal to M. de Pavol and 
ask him to take me to live with him. I ’ll 
frighten her with the threat of writing to 
my uncle, and it is n’t at all unlikely,” I con- 
tinued, after a moment’s reflection, that I 
may not do so some day or other.” 

^^Well, I do not see any great harm in 
that,” said the good cur6, smiling. 

Then you agree with me ! ” I cried, clap- 
ping my hands ; you approve ! ” 

Yes, my dear, up to a certain point, for 
there is no reason in the world why you 
should be beaten ; but no impertinence — I for- 
bid it. Use your weapon only for purposes 
of lawful defence, and remember that, what- 
ever be your aunt’s failings, you are bound to 
respect her. You must not be aggressive.” 

I pouted in a way that meant a good deal. 

I make no promises — or rather, to be 
frank with you, I promise to do the exact 
opposite of what you have advised.” 

Why Peine, this is downright rebellion ! 
You will make me angry in the end.” 

It is more than a rebellion,” I answered 
impressively, it is a revolution ! ” 

She ’ll be the death of me at last ! ” mur- 


88 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 

mured the cure. Mademoiselle de Lavalle, 
do me the favor of submitting to my author- 
ity.’’ 

Please listen to me/’ . I returned coax- 
ingly. ‘‘ I love you with all my heart ; why, 
you are the only person I love in the whole 
world I ” 

The cure’s face brightened up at once. 

But I hate my aunt — the very thought 
of her makes my blood run cold ; on this point 
I am as firm as a rock. I am a far cleverer 
person than she is ” — 

Here it was overcast again, and he inter- 
rupted me with a sharp exclamation. 

Don’t contradict,” I rejoined, looking 
down at him, “ for you know well you are 
of the same opinion.” 

And this is all my teaching has done ! ” 
murmured the cure despondently. 

M. le Cur4, my salvation is in no danger, 
so you may take the matter easy. You and I 
are sure to meet in heaven some day or other. 
Allow me to continue. Being far cleverer, 
then, than my aunt, I shall find no trouble in 
driving her distracted, simply by the use of 
words. Yesterday evening I made a solemn 
vow that I should be a thorn in her side, and I 
took the moon and stars to witness my oath.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 39 

Child/’ said the cure gravely, you refuse 
to hear me, and you will yet repent of it.” 

Oh, that ’s to be seen ! But I hear my 
aunt coming ; she is furious ; it was I who let 
loose the cow and rabbits and capons. . I 
wanted a chance to be alone with you. Give 
her a good scolding, M. le Cur4. I assure you 
she beat me awfully ; the black marks are still 
on my shoulders.” 

My aunt entered like a hurricane, and the 
cure, who was quite thunderstruck, had no 
time to answer me. 

^^Reine, come here!” she cried, crimson 
with anger and with her wild hunt after the 
rabbits. 

I made my stateliest bow, and with a 
significant glance at my ally said : I leave 
you with the cure.” 

Luckily the window was open. 

I leaped to a chair, strode across the window- 
sill and slipped down into the garden, to the 
utter bewilderment of my aunt, who stood in 
front of the door, ready to cut off my retreat. 

I confess I pretended to take to my heels ; 
but I did nothing of the sort. I hid behind a 
laurel, and the ecstasy with which I listened 
to the cure’s reproaches and my aunt’s furious 
answers baffles description. 


40 


MY UXCLE AND MY CUKE. 


At dinner in the evening she looked about 
as pleased as a dog does that has been despoiled 
of his bone. She scolded Suzon, who gave her 
as good as she got, flung the silverware 
viplently on the table, and the noise she 
created was really terrible ; at last, exasper- 
ated beyond endurance by my impassive, 
ironical demeanor, she seized a decanter and 
hurled it through the window. 

I at once laid hands on a dish of rice, which 
she had not yet tasted, and sent it to keep 
company with the decanter. 

My aunt was on her legs directly. 

Don’t come near me, at your peril,” I 
said, retreating. Touch me, and I write 
this very night to my uncle De Pavol.” 

‘^Ah!” cried my aunt, who stood as if 
turned to stone, her arm still uplifted. 

“ If not to-night,” I added, certainly to- 
morrow, or in a few days. I am determined 
not to allow you to beat me.” 

‘^Your uncle will not believe you!” ex- 
claimed my aunt. 

Won’t he, though? Your fingers have 
left their marks on my shoulders. I know 
he is very kind-hearted, and I am going to 
live with him.” 

I certainly had no idea as to whether my 


INIY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


41 


uncle was kind-hearted or not, for I was only 
six when I saw him for the first and last 
time. But I thought it a shrewd move on 
my part to profess that I was acquainted 
with him for a long time, and I was quite 
proud of my diplomatic acuteness. Then I 
retired majestically, leaving my aunt to make 
Suzon the confidant of her woes. 


CHAPTER IV. 

W AR was declared, and, from that time 
on, there was a stand-up fight be- 
tween me and Madame de Lavalle. Formerly 
I dared hardly open my mouth in her pres- 
ence, except when the cure was there to see 
something like fair play. She used to make 
me hold my tongue, even before I had finished 
what T had to say. 

How, this way of acting wounded my feel- 
ings to a painful degree, for my tongue runs 
quick. My talks with the cure made some 
amends for this enforced taciturnity, but fell 
far short of what I needed; so I had got 
into the habit of speaking aloud with myself. 
I sometimes stood before my glass for hours. 


42 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


and kept up a dialogue with my reflection 
the whole time. 

Dear mirror ! Faithful friend ! Sole con- 
fidant of my most secret thoughts ! 

I know not whether people have ever given 
any serious thought to the enormous influence 
exercised by this little article on the mind. 
And take notice that I do not qualify the sex 
of the aforesaid mind, knowing as I do full 
well that bearded individuals find quite as 
great a pleasure in contemplating their exter- 
nal characteristics as we do. 

If I were ever to write a philosophical 
work I would discuss this question : The 
influence of the looking-glass on the intellect 
and heart of man.’’ 

I do not deny that my treatise would be, 
perhaps, unique in its way, and would not 
bear the slightest resemblance to those philo- 
sophical systems in which Kant, Fichte, 
Schelling, and others have floundered through- 
out their entire lives, to their own exceeding 
glory and the very great happiness of poster- 
ity, whose pleasure in reading them is only 
the greater from its profound inability to 
comprehend a word they have written. No, 
I should never dream of encroaching on the 
preserves of these gentlemen. My treatise 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 43 

would be i^lain, clear, and practical, with a 
slight flavor of sarcasm, and to insist that the 
above-mentioned philosophers have any claim 
to these qualities would be to carry the spirit 
of contradiction very far indeed. But as I 
have not been able to discover that my under- 
standing was sufficiently ripened for such an 
important work I find full compensation in 
the sincere affection I feel for my mirror, 
and in the grateful sentiment that induces 
me to remain a very long time before it 
every day. 

I know well that some of those morose, 
tiresome people who are always viewing 
everything with jaundiced eyes are sure to 
accept this confession of mine as proof posi- 
tive that coquetry is the chief element in 
the sentiment I profess to feel in presence 
of my mirror. Good heavens, nobody is 
perfect ! And confess, my fine gentleman, 
that, if you be sincere, a thing by no means 
certain, you are bound to acknowledge per- 
sonal interest, not to use a coarser term, to 
be the controlling element in most of your 
sentiments. 

But to return to my subject, I will say that, 
as my terror of my aunt was now a thing of 
the past, I no longer tried to check my flow 


44 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

of words in her presence. At every meal 
there were disputes that threatened to degen- 
erate into storms. 

Although, so far, I knew nothing of her 
origin it did not take me long to find out that 
she was as stupid as an owl, and that she was 
completely baffled when I based my opinions 
on my own knowledge or my cure’s. Besides, 
I never felt the slightest hesitation in coolly 
asserting as historical facts ideas that were 
simply the creation of my own brain. Un- 
fortunately, when the discussion turned on 
subjects within my aunt’s personal experience 
I had to surrender ; when she declared that 
things happened in such or such a way in the 
world, or that men were rascals of the deepest 
dye, limbs of the devil, I lost my temper, but 
I had nothing to say in reply. I had sense 
enough to understand that the persons among 
whom I lived could give me only a very im- 
perfect idea of the conduct of men and women 
in the ordinary affairs of life. 

The cure dined with us every Sunday. He 
had, I presume, his own reasons for declining 
to indulge in eulogies on the lords of creation 
before me, — except his ancient heroes, whose 
enterprising activity could no longer harm him, 
were under consideration, — for his disclaimers 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 45 

of my aunt’s assertions were as feeble as can 
well be imagined. 

The Sunday dinner invariably consisted of 
a capon or chicken, a salad aux mufs durs, 
and clotted cream in season. The cure, whose 
fare was of the poorest at home, and whose 
palate had a sterling appreciation of Suzon’s 
cooking, arrived as hungry as a hunter, and 
rubbing his hands in pleasant anticipation. 

We were soon at table, and the beginning 
of the conversation resembled the bill of fare 
somewhat in its sameness. 

We have fine weather,” said my aunt, who 
simply changed the adjective if it rained. 

Glorious weather ! ” answered the cure 
joyously ; walking in this lovely sunshine is 
enchanting ! ” 

Whether it rained, or snowed, or froze, after 
a shower of hail or brimstone, the cure would 
have expressed his satisfaction all the same ; 
he would have sung the comforts of a room 
well protected against draughts, or the cheeri- 
ness of a blazing fire. 

Still, it is not warm,” returned my aunt. 

This is really astonishing. In my time we 
wore white gowns at Easter.” 

Did white dresses become you ? ” I asked 
sharply. 


46 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

My aunt, who was on the watch for some 
impertinence, tried to crush me with an 
ominous glance before replying. 

‘^Certainly, very much so.’’ 

Indeed ? ” I exclaimed, in a tone that left 
no doubt as to my opinion on the subject. 

In my time,” observed my aunt, young 
girls never spoke except they were spoken 
to.” 

‘‘Then you never used to speak in your 
youth, aunt ? ” 

“ When I was spoken to, not otherwise.” 

“ And every other young girl acted as you 
did ? ” 

“Certainly, niece.” 

“ What a hateful time it must have been ! ” 
I sighed, raising my eyes to Heaven. 

The cure looked at me reproachfully, and 
the eyes of Madame de Lavalle wandered 
round the different objects on the table, 
evidently tempted to hurl one of them at my 
head. 

When the conversation had reached this 
degree of acrimony it suddenly dropped, 
until the bitter feelings of my aunt, repressed 
for a time by her will power, suddenly 
burst forth like an engine subjected to over- 
pressure. She poured out the phials of her 


MY TJNCLE AND MY CURE. 47 

wrath on all creation. Men, women, chil- 
dren, nothing escaped it. As for the poor 
men, all that was left of them at the end of 
the dinner was mangled flesh and hones ; she 
had turned them into nondescript monsters. 

Men are not worth a rap,’’ said my aunt, 
in her customary chaste and elegant language. 

The cur4, under the weight of the distress- 
ing certainty that he was not a woman, bent 
his head, seemingly full of contrition. 

The miscreants ! The wretches ! ” contin- 
ued my aunt, with a furious look in my 
direction, as if I might belong to the species 
in question. 

Hum ! ” was the cure’s answer. 

People who think of nothing but jollifica- 
tion and eating,” went on my aunt, who still 
owed her husband a grudge on account of the 
poverty in which he had left her. 

Hum, hum ! ” returned the cure, shaking 
his head. 

^‘M. le Cur6,” I cried impatiently, ^Hium, 
hum ! is no very strong argument.” 

Pray excuse me,” answered the good 
man, who would have liked to be let enjoy 
his dinner in peace. fancy Madame de 
Lavalle goes a little farther than she intends 
in using the expression ‘ limbs of the devil.’ 


48 MY imCLE AND MY CURE. 

But, assuredly, there are many men in whom 
we can place no great confidence.’’ 

‘^You are like Francis I.; you prefer the 
women, then ? ” said I, in my candid way. 

Palsambleu ! ” shouted my aunt, who was 
in the habit of using this expression, borrowed 
from her husband, in place of far more for- 
cible words, thinking it quite aristocratic; 

palsamhleu ! will you hold your tongue, you 
idiot ? ” 

But the cure made her a mysterious sign, 
and the worthy woman bit her lips. 

And what about your heroes, M, le Cure ? 
and your Greeks ? and your Bomans ? ” 

Oh, the resemblance between the men of 
to-day and those of yore is very slight,” said 
the cure, quite convinced that he was express- 
ing a great truth. 

“ And the cures ? ” I retorted. 

^^Oh, the cures are not before the court,” 
he answered, with his winning smile. 

This kind of conversation, with its hidden 
meanings, excited my curiosity to an enor- 
mously irritating degree. I was conscious that 
a whole world of ideas and sentiments, which 
I should not make any delay in discovering, 
was shut out from me. I had my doubts as 
to the absolute correctness of m}’- aunt’s 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


49 


opinions on the human race, but I knew I was 
ignorant of many things and in danger of 
remaining at a standstill in my ignorance for 
a long time. 

One morning, while I was meditating on 
this lamentable situation, the idea came into 
my head of consulting the three persoifs 
whom I was in the habit of meeting every 
day : Jean, the farmer, Perrine, and Suzon. 

As the latter had lived at C — I concluded 
that her verdict on the subject must be based 
on great experience, so I kept her in reserve 
to clinch the question. 

Wrapping a capulet ' about me, I put on 
my sabots and made my way to the farm, 
which was nearly the two-thirds of a mile 
from the house. 

After splashing, floundering, and sinking in 
the mire, T came upon Jean, who was clean- 
ing his plough. 

^^Good day, Jean.’’ 

^^And the same to you, ma’m’selle,” said 
Jean, dofflng his woollen cap, which action 
allowed his hair to bristle straight up on his 
head, a little exercise to which it was addicted 
when freed from a pressure of any kind 
whatever. 


1 Mantilla worn by women in the Upper PyreneOB. — Tf » 


50 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

‘‘1 have come to consult you on a very 
important matter,” dwelling on the adverb 
with impressive emphasis, to waken up his 
understanding, which I knew to be rather 
inclined tq go vagabondizing when any one 
happened to question him. 

At your service, ma’m’selle.” 

^^My aunt says that all men are miscre- 
ants. What is your opinion on the subject, 
Jean ? ” 

Miscreants ? ” repeated Jean, who opened 
his eyes to their widest, as if he saw a 
monster before him. 

Yes, that is the opinion of my aunt, and 
I wish to have yours.” 

Sure enough, I don’t deny that might be 

so.” 

But that is not an opinion, Jean, now, is 
it ? Come, now, do you believe — yes or no — 
that men are, generally, miscreants ? ” 

Jean rested the tip of his nose on the index 
finger of his right hand, a well-known sign of 
deep meditation. 

After reflecting for at least a full minute 
he gave this clear and decisive answer ; 

Listen, ma’m’selle, I ’m going to make it 
plain to you. What you say might be so, and, 
then, it mightn’t be so, either.” 


M Ui^CLE AKD MY CURE. 51 

^^You idiot!” said I, indignant at such 
phenomenal stupidity. 

He opened his eyes, he opened his mouth, 
he opened his hands, he would have opened 
his entire person if he could, in order to show 
forth the overwhelming nature of his amaze- 
ment. 

I returned to the courtyard of Le Buisson, 
in a fuming rage with the mire, with my 
sabots, with Jean, and with myself. 

Perrine,” I cried, “ come here ! ” 

Perrine, who happened to be cleaning the 
earthen pans of her dairy, ran up at once, 
a bunch of nettles in her hand, her arms 
bare, her face as red as the ruddiest of apples, 
and her hat hanging over her shoulders as 
usual. 

“ What is your opinion of men ? ” I said 
bluntly. 

Of me-e-n ” — 

And 'Perrine, whose face changed from 
apple-red to the hue of a peony, dropped her 
nettles, took up a corner of her apron, raised 
her left leg, balanced herself on her right, 
and stared at me with an air of utter bewilder- 
ment. 

Why don’t you answer, I say ? What is 
your opinion of men ? ” 


52 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

Ma’m’selle, you ’re making game of me, for 
sure ! ” 

No, no, I ’m speaking very seriously. 
Answer at once.” 

Eaith, then, ma’m’selle,” said Perrine, 
coming plump down on her two legs again, 
my opinion is that you might see worse 
things than a tight, bonny lad ! ” 

This point of view plunged me in the pro- 
foundest reflection. 

‘‘ I am not speaking of their physical quali- 
ties. I have reference to their moral quali- 
ties,” I resumed, shrugging my shoulders. 

^^Paith, ma’m’selle,” answered Perrine, 
whose little eyes shone, think them too 
sweet for anything ! ” 

What ! you do not regard them as mis- 
creants, wretches, limbs of the devil ? ” 
Perrine roared with laughter. 

Excuse me, ma’m’selle, but calling them 
miscreants is so funny I ” — 

Here she stopped and gave her head a ter- 
rible blow with her fist. Then she fumbled 
with her apron, cast down her eyes, and 
seemed disposed to take to her heels. 

Well, go on, can’t you ? What next ? ” 
“ Ma’m’selle, you ’re trying to make me talk 
nonsense, for sure ! I ’m off.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 53 

And making me her finest courtesy, she van- 
nished into the depths of the dairy and shut 
the door in my face. 

What did she mean by making her talk 
nonsense ? Well, Suzon is the only resource 
left me now. Wonder if I can get anything 
out of her.” 

I entered the kitchen. Suzon, armed with 
a broom, was preparing to bring its agency 
into play effectively. It looked to me as 
if she was in one of her tantrums, and I 
deemed it prudent to prepare the way by some 
rhetorical expedients before approaching the 
question. 

^^What a handsome appearance your cop- 
pers have, and how they do shine ! ” said I 
graciously. 

A body can only do what she can,” grum- 
bled Suzon, ^^and those who find fault with 
them may say their say for what I care.” 

Do you know, Suzon, your last chicken 
fricassee was delicious,” I went on, keeping 
up my courage, “you must really show me 
how to make it.” 

That ’s none of your business, mademoi- 
selle ; please go to your own place and don’t 
interfere with my kitchen.” 

These methods of corruption producing 


54 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

no effect, I turned my batteries on another 
point. 

“ Do you know what has come into my 
head, Suzon? You must have been very 
pretty in your young days,” said I, thinking 
to myself that had I been her husband I 
should have been capable of baking her in 
the oven, so I might get rid of her. 

I had touched a sensitive chord. Suzon 
deigned to smile. 

Every one has had her day, some time 
or other, mademoiselle.” 

Suzon,” I said, taking advantage of this 
sudden gentleness to arrive at my aim as 
speedily as possible, I want to ask you a ques- 
tion. What is your opinion of men — and 
of women ? ” I added, thinking it diplomatic 
to extend my investigations to both sexes. 

Suzon leaned on her broom, assumed her 
most crabbed air, and answered with a posi- 
tiveness that was simply overpowering : 

The women, mademoiselle, are no great 
shakes, but the men are as bad as bad can be.” 

‘‘ Oh ! ” I protested, “ are you quite sure of 
it?” 

It ’s as sure as that I ’m talking to you 
this present moment, mademoiselle ! ” 

She rushed with her broom at the remnants 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUEE. 


55 


of vegetables strewed over tbe floor and swept 
them away with as much fierce dexterity as if 
they represented those bipeds that were the 
objects of her antipathy. 

I withdrew to my room to meditate on the 
misanthropic axiom enunciated by Suzon, 
rather discouraged when I came to think I 
myself was no great shakes/’ and that my 
unknown friends the men were in a still 
more humiliating case, being as bad as bad 
can be.” 


CHAPTEE V. 

S TILL, as my moral investigations seemed 
to have been followed by very unsatis- 
factory results, I decided, in pursuing them 
further, to call the romances in the library to - 
my aid. 

There being a fair at C — on a certain Mon- 
day, my aunt, the cure, and Suzon had made 
up their minds to go there in company. As 
usual, my aunt decided to leave me at home 
under the guardianship of Perrine, and for 
the first time in my life this decision of hers 
enchanted me. I was sure to be my own 
mistress, for Perrine would trouble her head 


66 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 


more about her cow than about my cravings 
for fuller knowledge. 

When an excursion of this kind was in 
question our farmer drove into the yard, at 
eight in the morning, a sort of carryall, called 
in the country a maringote ; my aunt made her 
appearance in gorgeous array, her head 
adorned with a round hat of black felt tied 
with ribbons of pale violet, and planted 
arrogantly on the top of her chignon. She 
was swathed in furs, having since her mar- 
riage acted on the principle that a lady of 
rank should never be seen abroad without the 
skin of some animal or other on her back. 
She believed firmly, when she was dressed in 
this fashion, that all the blemishes which 
threw her origin in her teeth were wiped out. 

She sat on a pillow resting on a chair at 
the back of the carryall. Suzon, to whom 
was entrusted the task of making the horse 
go, though he was really determined to go it 
alone, was perched on the plank in front, and 
the cure beside her, on the left. 

Then, with one accord, they all turned 
toward me. 

Don’t be playing any of your pranks,” 
said my aunt, and be sure not to go into the 
kitchen garden.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUR^). 57 

Don’t turn my kitchen topsy-turvy,” cried 
Suzon; ^^and make your lunch off the cold 
veal.” 

The cure did not breathe a word, but looked 
at me with a friendly smile, making a gesture 
which meant 

If she had let me, you may be certain I 
should have taken you, too.” 

On that memorable Sunday things passed 
as usual. I walked a few steps on the high- 
way, and soon the three of them vanished out 
of sight. 

Without losing a moment I set about exe- 
cuting a plan that had been ripening for a 
long time, and that was to get possession of 
the library ; the cure, it is true, had, unfor- 
tunately, taken it into his head to confiscate 
the key, but I was not the girl to let a little 
thing like that bother me. 

I ran for a ladder and dragged it under the 
window of the library ; after superhuman 
efforts I raised it at last, and propped it 
against the wall. Climbing up nimbly, with 
a stone in my hand I broke a pane, removed 
the brojien glass from the sash, squeezed my 
head and shoulders through, and dropped, 
or rather fell, headforemost on the tiled 
floor, bruising my forehead awfully; the 


58 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

cure brought me a salve the next day to 
heal it. 

My chief concern now, when I got up and 
was somewhat recovered from the dizziness 
occasioned by my fall, was to search in the 
drawers of an old bureau and try to find a 
key like the one the cure had appropriated. 
My task did not take long : after two or three 
fruitless trials I found what I wanted. 

After removing, as far as possible, the 
traces of my burglarious enterprise I sank 
into an arm-chair, and, while resting from my 
labors, my eyes caught the titles of the works 
of Sir Walter Scott just in front of me. I 
seized one of them at random, and returned 
to my room, with The Fair Maid of Perth ” 
in my possession. 

A treasure indeed ! I had never read a 
novel before in my life, and the delight, the 
ecstasy the reading of this one aroused in 
me are simply indescribable. Though I lived 
nine hundred and sixty-nine, years, like our 
old friend Methuselah, I could never forget 
the impression then made on me by “The 
Fair Maid of Perth.” 

I felt like some prisoner suddenly trans- 
ported from his dungeon and set down in 
the midst of flowers and trees and sunlight ; 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 59 

or, better still, like an artist hearing for the 
first time the ideal execution of the work of 
his heart and intellect by a master-hand. 
That world to which I was a stranger, that 
world for which I had unconsciously yearned, 
stood suddenly revealed before me. A flash 
of light illumined my mind, and with such 
quickness that I believed I must, until this 
moment, have been silly and stupid. This 
romance, so full of color, life, and movement, 
entranced, intoxicated me. 

In the evening I came down in a kind of 
dream to the dining-room, where the cure, 
who was dining with us, was waiting impa- 
tiently for me. 

He looked at my face with the greatest 
concern, and asked with compassionate inter- 
est how the accident had happened. 

^^An accident?’’ said I, with an air of 
astonishment. 

^^Your forehead is quite black, my poor 
little Heine.” 

^‘The silly girl must have been climbing a 
tree or a ladder,” said my aunt. 

A ladder, yes ; that ’s true enough.” 

Poor child ! ” exclaimed the cure, aghast. 

Did you fall on your head ? ” 

I made a sign of assent. 


60 


MY FNCLE AND MY CDEE. 


“ And did you use arnica, my child ? ’’ 

Pshaw ! It ’s well worth while, indeed ! 
Eat your soup, M. le Cure ; don’t pay atten- 
tion to that madcap ; she has got what she 
deserved.” 

The cure said nothing more. He made a 
little friendly sign, and looked askant at me 
now and then. 

But little did I heed what was passing 
around me. I was musing on the charming 
Catherine Glover or on the valiant Henry 
Smith, with whom, for want of a better, I 
was already in love, and then, without the 
slightest reason, I burst into a passionate fit 
of sobbing. 

Good heavens ! ” cried the cur4, leaping 
from his ch^ir; ^Hny dear little Beine, my 
poor child ! ” 

Let her alone,” said my aunt, she is in 
one of her tempers because we did not take 
her with us to C — .” 

But the cure, who knew how I detested 
weeping, and that I was too proud, in any 
case, to expose in presence of my aunt the 
suffering of which she might be the occasion, 
drew near me, asked in a low voice why I 
cried, and used all his efforts to soothe me. 

My dear^ kind cure,” said I, wiping away 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 61 

the tears and trying to laugh, it ’s nothing. 
You know I have a perfect dread of pain — 
and then, I must look like a scarecrow ! ” 

^^Not more so than usual,” rejoined my 
aunt. 

The cure gazed at me long and anxiously. 
My explanation did not satisfy him, and he 
was saying to himself that something out of 
the way must have happened during the 
day. He advised me to go to bed immedi- 
ately, which I did very promptly. 

I felt humiliated at the thought of being ' 
the actor in such an emotional scene, and the 
more so that I had no idea of the cause of 
my tears. Was it pleasure ? Was it pain ? 

I could not tell, and I fell asleep, after re- 
peatedly saying to myself it was useless 
attempting to analyze my feelings. 

During the following month I devoured 
most of Sir Walter Scott’s romances. Most 
assuredly, since that day my life has often 
had its share of profound and solid happi- 
ness; but, great though that happiness has 
been, I am not quite certain that it has sur- 
passed, in a high degree, the keen enjoyment 
I experienced when my soul issued forth from 
the fog that held it a prisoner, like a butter- 
fly escaped from its chrysalis, and swept along 


62 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

from transport to transport, from ecstasy to 
ecstasy. I forgot everything, and all my 
thoughts were centred on my romances and 
on the characters that excited my imagina- 
tion. 

While the cure was expounding a problem 
I was thinking of Eebecca, whom I had left 
alone with the Templar ; while he was lectur- 
ing on history a train of charming heroes 
was defiling before my eyes, and among them 
my fickle heart had already chosen more than 
half a score of husbands ; while he was taking 
me to task I was only half listening, being 
busy in devising a costume like Elizabeth of 
England’s or Amy Eobsart’s. 

What have you done to-day ? ” he asked 
on entering. 

Nothing.” 

Nothing ? What do you mean ? ” 

Oh, this sort of thing bores me ! ” I 
answered wearily. 

The poor cure was horror-struck. He 
prepared long lectures, which he delivered 
for my benefit without pause or rest ; but he 
might as well have been talking to a red 
Indian for all the effect they produced on 
me. 

At length, and all of a sudden, I fell into 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 63 

low spirits. Though my aunt no longer beat 
me, she made up for it by the rude things 
she said to me. She had guessed that the 
idea of being so small was a torture to me ; 
and so she lost no opportunity of wounding 
my feelings where they were most vulnerable : 
she called me an abortion, and never grew 
tired of repeating that I was ugly. 

A short time before I had regarded myself 
as very pretty, and had a good deal more 
confidence in my own opinion than in that of 
my aunt. But since I had become acquainted 
with the heroines of Sir Walter Scott I was 
completely at fault, and no longer had the 
same certainty. They were so beautiful ; 
and it was agony to think that the only 
chance one had of being loved was to be like 
them. 

The cure, on account, I suppose, of the 
sympathy by which we were unconsciously 
united, lost his smiles, and his color with 
them. He looked at me despairingly, passed 
the time in taking snuff, and apparently had 
quite forgotten how to do so artistically. 
He did his best to spy out my secret, employ- 
ing the most artful schemes for the purpose. 
However, I was impenetrable. 

One day I saw him making for the library, 


64 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


but I always took good care never to leave 
the key in the lock. He turned back, shaking 
his head and running his fingers through his 
hair, which, being in greater disorder than 
ever, was now standing up like a plume. 

I had hidden behind a door, and, when he 
was passing close by me, I heard him mur- 
mur : 

“ I will return with the key ! ’’ 

This intention of his alarmed me exceed- 
ingly. I was sure he would discover my 
secret, and then — good-by to my darling 
Sir Walter ! 

I ran at once and gathered together several 
romances, took them to my room, and re- 
placed them on the shelves by volumes from 
any spot where I could find them ; but, with 
all my precautions, I feared the sheet of 
paper I had substituted for the broken pane 
was a witness it would be vain to attempt to 
gainsay. 

It was on that day I discovered, while 
examining some letters I found in the bureau, 
the class of people my aunt had sprung from. 
It was a good weapon, and I decided I should 
not be slow in using it, either. 

The next day, at lunch, she was in a very 
bad temper. When she was in this vein, if 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 65 

she did not find a pretext for scolding me she 
was sure to do without it. 

I was dreaming of that fascinating Buck- 
ingham, who seemed to my eyes simply 
adorable, with his insolence, his splendid 
garb, his knots of ribbon, and his wit, and I 
was asking myself why Alice Bridgenorth 
was so terrified at finding herself in his 
company, when my aunt said, without any 
preface : 

^^What a fright you are this morning, 
Reine ! 

I jumped up on my chair. 

There ! ’’ said I, passing her the salt-cellar. 

I did not ask for the salt, you goose ! 
Really, you are getting to be as stupid as you 
are ugly.” 

I may mention, by the way, that my aunt 
never said thou ” to me. Ever since the day 
she married my uncle she had got it into her 
head that her aristocratic station required the 
erasure of the thou ” from her vocabulary. 
She said you ” even to her rabbits. 

I do not agree with you,” I said dryly. 

I am sure I am very pretty.” 

A "capital joke, that!” cried my aunt. 
^‘You pretty! * A little abortion, no higher 
than the mantelpiece ! ” 


66 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


Better look like a delicate plant than 
like a caricature of a man/’ I retorted. 

My aunt firmly believed she had been at 
one time a beauty. It was a point about 
which she allowed no trifling. 

I have been beautiful, mademoiselle, so 
beautiful that the people of the country used 
to call my sister and myself goddesses.” 

“ Did your sister resemble you, aunt ? ” 

Very much so ; we were twins.” 

^^Her husband must have been the object 
of sincere compassion,” I said with impres- 
sive assurance. 

My aunt rapped out an oath which I cannot 
allow my pen to repeat. 

I am not surprised,” I continued calmly ; 

you have, naturally, the manners of women 
of your class, while I ” — 

But I stuck fast in the middle of the sen- 
tence. My aunt had broken a plate with the 
handle of her knife. My words proved to her 
how unavailing were all her efforts to hide 
her birth. I was now fully avenged for all 
her malignity. 

You are a serpent ! ” she cried in a stifled 
voice. 

“ I don’t believe it, aunt.” 

“ A serpent ! ” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


67 


You said so before/’ I answered, tran- 
quilly swallowing my last strawberry. 

A serpent I have warmed in my bosom,” 
repeated my aunt, too angry to care for origi- 
nality. 

I shook my head, thinking, if I were a ser- 
pent even, the position would have no attrac- 
tion for me, and answered : 

^^Do me the honor, madame, of permitting 
me to state that I have studied this animal in 
my natural history, and have never been able 
to discover that one of its habits was to be 
warmed in the bosom of any person whatso- 
ever.” 

My aunt, always brought to a standstill 
when I alluded to my studies, did not answer, 
but there was a look on her face the reverse 
of reassuring, and I slipped away, singing at 
the top of my voice : 

“ I once had an uncle who was called De Pavol, 
De Pavol, vol, vol, De Pavol ! ” 

We were now in the middle of June. But- 
terflies were flitting and flies were buzzing 
everyw'here around me. The air was laden 
with a thousand perfumes, and, in short, it 
was such a ravishing day that I forgot my 
customary prudence. Taking my book along 


68 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

with me, I went and threw myself down in a 
meadow on the shady side of a haystack. 

I felt just a little inclined to cry when I 
called to mind the words of my aunt. Cer- 
tainly it was heartrending to be so small, so 
awfully small ! Was it possible that any one 
should ever love me ? But Peveril of the 
Peak ’’ was a great comfort to me. Of all the 
romances of Walter Scott it was the one I 
favored most, and all on account of Fenella, 
who must assuredly have been a tinier creat- 
ure than even I am. 

I loved, adored Buckingham. I was quite 
angry with Fenella ; the words she used in 
addressing him were shockingly rude, and at 
the moment when she is vanishing through 
the window I paused in my reading to ex- 
claim : 

Stupid little thing ! and he such a charm- 
ing man ! ” 

Then I raised my eyes and gave a cry of 
dismay. The cure was standing straight in 
front of me ! His arms were folded, and he 
was gazing down on me with an air of conster- 
nation, apparently as much appalled by what 
he saw as the person in the fairy tale who 
discovered that his diamonds had been 
changed into nuts. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 69 

I rose up, somewhat abashed, for I had 
tricked him shamefully. 

Oh ! Keine ” — he began. 

My dear cure, ’’ I cried, clasping Peveril 
of the Peak ’’ to my heart, I entreat, I be- 
seech you let me finish it ! ’’ 

Peine, Peine, my little Peine, I could 
never have thought this of you ! ’’ 

His gentleness moved me strongly, es- 
pecially as my conscience was anything 
but easy, but, employing a stratagem distinc- 
tively feminine, I hastened to change the 
subject. 

It took me out of myself, M. le Cure, for 
I am very unhappy.” 

Unhappy, Peine ? ” 

Do you think it can be very pleasant for 
any one to have an aunt like mine ? It is 
true she no longer beats me, but she says 
things that stab me to the heart.” 

How well I knew my cure ! The wrong I 
had done him and his intended sermon were 
at once forgotten, especially as there was a 
good deal of truth in my words. 

And this is why you are so sad, my dear 
little child ? ” 

“ Certainly, M. le Cure. Just only think 
of it ! Always dinning into my ear, from 


70 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

morning to night, that I am an abortion, and 
ugly as a scarecrow ! ’’ 

The tears came to my eyes, for the thought 
of my sufferings made my heart bleed. 

The good cure, deeply affected, rubbed his 
nose, looking rather put out. He was far 
from sharing the opinion of my aunt on the 
subject, and he was searching for some way 
of relieving me from my affliction without, at 
the same time, enkindling the sins of pride, 
vanity, and other elements of damnation in 
my soul. 

How, Reine, really, it is wrong to attach 
too much importance to things that fade away 
so soon ! ’’ 

However, these things exist at present,’’ 
I answered, chiming in, after two centuries, 
with the thought of the most beautiful 
woman in France. 

And then you may meet people, perhaps, 
who will not be quite of the same mind as 
Madame de Lavalle.” 

And are you one of these people, M. le 
Cure ? How, do you think me pretty ? ” 

Well — yes,” answered the cure piteously. 

And very pretty ? ” 

‘‘Well — yes,” still more piteously. 

“ Oh, am n’t I pleased ! ” I cried, whirling 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 71 

round on my heel. How I do love you, my 
cure ! ” 

That ’s all very fine, Heine, but you have 
committed a great fault. You made your 
way into the library at the risk of breaking 
your neck, and read books I should have, 
probably, forbidden you to read.” 

Walter Scott, M. le Cure ? Walter Scott ? 
And my history of literature speaks so well 
of him ! ” 

And I gave him a full account of all my 
impressions. My tongue ran fast and furi- 
ous, for I was enchanted to find that not only 
did the cure forget to scold me, but was 
listening to me with the greatest interest. 
My high spirits had a magical effect on him, 
the color suddenly came back to his cheeks 
and the smile to his lips. 

It ’s all right, Heine,” said he ; you may 
go on with Sir Walter ; I intend taking him 
up again myself, so that I may be able to talk 
with you about him; but promise that this 
will be the last of your pranks.” 

I made the required promise with the 
utmost sincerity, and, from that time on, we 
had fresh material for disputes and discus- 
sions, for you can easily understand we were 
never of the same opinion. 


72 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


But the interest I was taking in my 
romances was soon effaced by an astound- 
ing, unheard-of event that happened a few 
weeks later at Le Buisson — one of those 
events that do not, indeed, make empires 
totter on their foundations, but that thrill 
the hearts and imaginations of young girls 
with convulsive emotions. 


CHAPTEE VI. 

I T was on a Sunday. 

On Sunday we attended high mass reg- 
ularly, it being the only mass said during 
the morning, as the parish was without a 
curate. My aunt was the first to enter our 
emblazoned pew, I followed after, then came 
Suzon, with Perrine in her wake. 

Our little church was a very old and a very 
dilapidated structure. The primitive color of 
the walls was giving way to a greenish, slimy 
tint, caused by the moistness of the atmos- 
phere, Even the floor was not lev^l, and a 
number of crevices and little mounds invited 
the faithful to break their necks and so take 
advantage of their presence in a sanctified 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUE^:. 73 

place to mount to heaven the sooner. The altar 
was adorned with figures of angels painted by 
the village wheelwright, who gloried in being 
an artist ; two or three saints contemplated 
one another with surprise, astonished at their 
common ugliness. I have many a time said 
to myself, after regarding them, that if I 
were a saint, and if mortals dared to make me 
out so hideous, I would be absolutely deaf to 
their prayers ; but perhaps the saints have 
not the same cast of mind that I have. A 
white rose had passed its perfumed head 
through a window, now bereft of its panes, 
and, by its beauty and freshiftss, seemed to 
protest against the bad taste of man. 

We possessed a harmonium whose notes 
usually had only three vibrations ; some- 
times the number rose to five, this instru- 
ment being, thanks to the temperature, sub- 
ject to vagaries, like the rheumatism of our 
choirmaster, who roared for two hours, and 
whose belief in the excellence of his voice 
was so deep and artless that it was impossible 
to get angry with him. The celebrant’s bench 
was placed behind a kind of precipice, so 
that, from where I sat, I saw only the head 
and bust of the cure, who looked as if he 
were doing penance. The young choristers 


74 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE, 


made faces and whispered behind his back, 
which did not appear to annoy him. 

After the Gospel he took off his chasuble 
and stole in our presence, — it didn’t matter, 
we were all one family, — stumbled into some 
of the holes, and finally reached the pulpit. 

Among the men and women who fret their 
little hour on this globe of ours there is 
not one, I imagine, who, during the course of 
his or her existence, has not had some dream 
or other. The human animal, be its position 
high or low, cannot live without ambitions, 
and the cure, being subject to this common 
law, had for thirty years of his life dreamed 
of possessing a pulpit. 

Unluckily, he was very poor, his parish- 
ioners were as poor as he, and my aunt, the 
only person in a position to help him, gave 
no answer to his timid suggestions. Apart 
from the fact that her miserly nature was 
always up in arms when her pocket was 
in danger, she did not set the slightest store 
on this dream of her neighbor. 

At last, as the result of the severest econ- 
omy, the cure was the proud possessor of two 
hundred francs. He thereupon resolved to 
realize his dream, even though the result 
might not come up to his expectations. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 75 

One morning he arrived at the house, out 
of breath. 

Reine, E-eine, come with me ! he cried. 

And pray where, M. le Cure ? 

To the church ; come quick ! ’’ 

But mass is finished.’’ 

Yes, yes, but I want to show you some- 
thing that will delight you ! ” 

He looked so joyous, his honest face 
beamed with such gladness, that I still laugh 
when I recall the scene, and his rapture on 
the occasion is one of the pleasantest mem- 
ories of that period in my life. 

He did not walk, he flew, and we raced the 
whole way to the church. The pulpit had 
just been placed in position, and the cure, 
falling into an ecstasy before it, whispered : 

Look, my dear, look ! Was n’t it a lucky 
idea ? We possess a pulpit at last ! It may 
not appear very solid, but it holds together 
very well for all that. And now the dream 
of my life is realized ! We ought never to 
despair of anything, my dear, never ! ” 

I did look, and I confess I was somewhat 
bewildered. A pulpit, in my imagination, was 
always something grand and monumental. 
What I saw before me was a white wooden 
box placed on iron supports so low that the 


76 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUliE. 


steps were not really needed at all. But — 
who ever heard of a pulpit without steps ? 
So, to save appearances, there were two, each 
about half a foot high. 

^ See, Beine,’’ said the cur6 what a good 
effect it produces ! When I get a little money 
I shall have it painted. No, I ’ll paint it my- 
self ; it will be an amusement, and a saving 
as well. I don’t deny but that it might have 
been a little more elevated, but it is not right 
to be too ambitious.” 

And the excellent man marched around the 
pulpit with an air of intense admiration. He 
could not have felt happier if the panels 
had been painted by Raphael or carved by 
Michel-Angelo. 

He had not the slightest idea of the little 
resemblance between the reality and the dream 
— always the case, alas ! He took good heed 
not to make comparisons, and so there was 
nothing to hinder him from enjoying his hap- 
piness to the top of his bent. 

And I drew up the plan of it myself, my 
dear child, and really, I think I did it rather 
well ! But there is another side to the pict- 
ure, and I must confess that I have got a 
little in debt; the price asked was higher 
than I expected ; however, apparently, that is 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 77 

always the case when we set about having 
anything constructed. I reckoned on buying 
a wadded overcoat this winter. Well, all I 
have to say is that I must do without it ! 

Ah, well have I said that his rapture on 
this occasion is one of the pleasantest mem- 
ories of my life then ! Kever since have I 
seen a man so happy, or one who could so in- 
crease the value of so very modest a piece of 
good fortune by the reflection of his own fine 
nature and childlike disposition. 

It has quite the air of a pulpit, has n’t it ? ” 
he cried, laughing, .and rubbing his hands. 

I had a good deal of doubt on the subject, 
but I managed to hide it, and fell into rap- 
tures also, as successfully as I could, before 
this extraordinary object, which, because of 
the irregular form of the church, was thrust 
back into a corner, so that, when the cure 
preached, three-fourths of the congregation 
could see only an arm and a lock of white 
hair moving in eloquent agitation, according 
to the different phases of the subject. 

The cure was so delighted at being able to 
say to himself : “ I am now going to ascend the 
pulpit ! ” that we had to resign ourselves to 
hearing a sermon every Sunday. 

As sdoii as he opened his mouth all the 


78 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


good women settled themselves down com- 
fortably to enjoy a little nap. Perrine profited 
by the general drowsiness to flash a glance, 
now and then, into the pew next ours ; and 
Peine de Lavalle got ready to meditate on the 
vicissitudes of life as represented by an aunt, 
and on the weariness produced by sermons. 

I do not know why the cure loved to dis- 
course on the human passions ; but one day, 
after he had let himself be dragged along by 
the warmth of his improvisation, I put so 
many indiscreet and embarrassing questions 
to him at dinner that he made a firm resolve 
never to approach certain subjects when I 
was present. After that he was satisfied to 
confine his preaching to idleness, drunken- 
ness, anger, and other vices which had not 
the slightest interest for me, and about which 
I felt no inclination to ask questions. 

He would spend a full hour in picturing 
for our benefit the awful iniquity in which 
we were plunged; then, when our moral 
condition had become truly lamentable, he de- 
scended, with a radiant air, into hell, taking 
us along with him, and brought us to within 
a hair’s breadth of the tortures our sinful 
souls deserved. After this he worked his 
way boldly to a more comfortable view of our 


•MY UNCLE AND MY CUBE. 79 

situation, emerged gradually from the infer- 
nal regions, stayed just for about a minute on 
earth, calmly lodged us at last in heaven, 
and came down from the pulpit with the tri- 
umphant mien of a conqueror who has just cut 
the Gordian knot. 

His hearers thereupon woke up with a 
start, all except Suzon, whose satisfaction at 
hearing the human race abused banished 
sleep, and who was sipping a cup of coffee 
while her pastor was scourging his flock with 
the flowers of his rhetoric. 

It was, then, on a Sunday. 

The heat was oppressive, and on our re- 
turn Suzon said: 

^^We ’ll have a storm before evening.’’ 

This prophecy pleased me ; a storm was a 
happy break in the monotony of my life, and, 
despite my cowardice, I was fond of thunder 
and lightning, though I shook like an aspen 
during a quick succession of thunderclaps. 

During the early afternoon I wandered 
like a lost soul about the garden and the little 
wood. I felt bored to death, thinking sadly 
that no out-of-the-way event was ever likely to 
turn up, as far as I was concerned, and that I 
should have to live with my aunt forever. 

About four I returned, went up to the cor- 


80 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


ridor on the first floor, and, with my face 
glued to a pane in one of the windows, amused 
myself by watching the motion of the clouds 
which were gathering above Le Buisson and 
heralding the storm predicted by Suzon. 

I was asking myself where they came from, 
what had they seen on their journey, and 
what were they able to tell a young girl who 
knew nothing of life, nothing of the world, 
and who yet aspired both to see and to know. 
They had met behind yonder horizon which I 
had never overstepped, and which hid from 
my gaze those mysteries, those splendors (so, 
at least, I fancied), those joys and pleasures 
upon which I was silently meditating. 

I was disturbed in my reflections by sud- 
denly catching sight of Perrine. She was 
hidden in a little corner, and a big clodhopper 
of a fellow was kissing her, with his arm 
round her waist, apparently not meeting much 
resistance on her part. I quickly opened the 
window, shouting; 

‘‘ Very well, mademoiselle ; I see you ! ’’ 

Perrine at once seized her sabots and fled, 
panic-stricken, to the stable. The big clod- 
hopper doffed his cap and gazed at me with a 
fatuous smile that opened his mouth from 
ear to ear. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUJEIE. 


81 


I was indulging in peals of laughter, when 
a light carriage, whose approach I had not 
noticed, entered the courtyard, a man leaped 
to the ground, said a few words to the servant 
who was with him, and looked round in search 
of some one to speak to. 

But Perrine, whose hat I could see bulging 
out through the grated window of the stable, 
did not budge, and her lover had thrown him- 
self flat on the ground behind a straw rick. 

As for myself I was astounded at the 
spectacle, and, pushing back the blind, I ob- 
served what was going on in perfect stillness. 

With two strides over the dilapidated flight 
of steps, the stranger was at the door and 
looking round for a bell which had never 
existed, which seeing, and patience evidently 
not being his strong point, he hammered 
away at the door with his fist. 

In a moment my aunt and Suzon stood be- 
fore him, and I solemnly declare that, from 
that moment, I had the highest opinion of 
his courage ; he did not manifest the slightest 
alarm ! He bowed slightly, and, as far as I 
could make out from his gestures, requested 
permission to take shelter in Le Buisson, 
saying that the threatening . appearance of 
the sky had made him anxious. 


82 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


Aad, in fact, at that very moment the 
storm came down furiously ; there was barely 
time to put the horse and carriage under 
cover. 

It is said that solitude produces timidity ; 
but, in certain cases, it produces the exact 
opposite. As I had never associated with 
anybody and, consequently, had no standard of 
comparison, my self-confidence was extreme ; 
I was entirely ignorant of that strange feel- 
ing which annihilates the most brilliant fac- 
ulties and makes the most superior man look 
like a fool. 

Still, my heart was beating rapidly in pres- 
ence of an adventure that had, apparently, 
come in answer to my thoughts, and I hesi- 
tated so long at the drawing-room door be- 
fore entering that I was still there when the 
cure arrived, soaked to the skin and happy. 

“ M. le Cure,’’ I cried, running up to him, 
there is a man in the drawing-room ! ” 
Indeed ! A farmer, I suppose ? ” 

No, no, M. le Cure, a real man.” 

A real man ? What do you mean ? ” 

I mean that he is neither a cure nor a 
peasant. He is young and well dressed. Oh, 
let us go in at once ! ” 

We entered, and I was nearly crying out in 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


83 


my astonishment, for there was my aunt with 
a most gracious expression on her counte- 
nance and a pleasant smile for the stranger, 
who sat facing her and seemed to be as much 
at ease as if he were in his own house. 

But indeed, the very look of him ought to 
be able to mollify the most sullen temper. 
He was tall, just a little portly, and his 
countenance was frank, open, and bright. He 
wore his hair cut close, had a mustache, 
pointed at the ends, a well formed mouth, 
and white teeth, which his honest, natural 
laugh often exposed to view. His whole per- 
son was the very expression of gayety and of 
his joy in life. 

He rose as soon as he saw us, and waited a 
moment for my aunt to present him. But 
my aunt was as little acquainted with this 
ceremony as are the natives of Greenland, 
and he presented himself as Paul de Conprat. 

De Conprat ! ” exclaimed the cure ; are 
you the son of Major de Conprat, an excellent 
gentleman I knew formerly 

^‘My father is certainly a major, M. le 
Cur6. Were you acquainted with him?” 

‘‘Yes, he did me a service several years 
ago. What a fine, honorable gentleman he 
was ! ” 


84 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 

I am aware that every one is fond of my 
father/’ he said, his face growing brighter 
than ever ; but it always renews my pleas- 
ure when the fact is brought home to me in 
this way.” 

^^Are you not,” continued the cure, ^^a 
relative of M. de Pavol ? ” 

“ Most assuredly ; third cousin.” 

This is his niece,” said the cur6, present- 
ing me. 

Inexperienced though I was, I could per- 
ceive a certain amount of admiration in the 
look M. de Conprat gave me. 

I am enchanted to make the acquaintance 
of so charming a cousin,” he said, in a tone 
of conviction, offering his hand. 

This compliment sent a little thrill of pleas- 
ure through my frame, and I put my hand in 
his without the slightest embarrassment. 

^^Not precisely a cousin,” said the cure, 
■taking a pinch of snuff, with an air of great 
satisfaction; M. de Pavol is Peine’s uncle 
only by marriage ; his wife was a Damoiselle 
de Lavalle.” 

Oh, that does not matter, I don’t sur- 
render our relationship for all that ! Besides, 
if a careful investigation were made I have 
no doubt it would be discovered there were 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 85 

intermarriages between our house and the De 
Lavalles.’’ 

We immediately began gossiping just as 
if we were old friends, and the idea really 
took hold of me that we had long known and 
liked each other. I experienced that unac- 
countable impression which makes us imagine 
that what is passing immediately before our 
eyes has had its counterpart in some imme- 
morial past, too remote to have left aught be- 
hind it but a vague and almost obliterated 
memory. 

It was in vain I recalled all the heroes of 
romance with whom I had become intimate : 
not a single one of them was to be compared 
to the hero I had just discovered. He was 
stout, — that was past denying, — but so good- 
natured and merry and witty that this phys- 
ical defect was quickly transformed, in my 
eyes, into a transcendent merit. Even my 
imaginary heroes soon appeared to me to be 
totally devoid of charm. Despite their slim 
and elegant figures, they were utterly routed 
by this plump, honest youth, who was full of 
life and full of joy, and whom I mentally 
invested with the noblest characteristics. 

Meanwhile, although the storm was not so 
violent, it continued raining, and as it was 


86 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 

near dinner-time my aunt invited Paul de 
Conprat to join us at table. He declared 
immediately that he was as hungry as a 
church mouse, and the eagerness with which 
he accepted the invitation delighted me. 

I slipped away with the resolution to brave 
the ill temper of Suzon. 

Suzon,’’ said I excitedly, on entering the 
kitchen, M. de Conprat is dining with us. 
Have we a fat capon, clotted cream, straw- 
berries, and cherries ? ” 

‘‘ Heyday,” grumbled Suzon ; “ what a 

to-do ! We have what we have, and let 
that content you ! ” 

I know, Suzon ; but please answer me. 
Ho you think a capon will do ? ” 

It is n’t a capon, mademoiselle. What 
would you say to a turkey ? Look there ! ” 
And Suzon proudly opened the oven and 
called on me to admire the biped, which she 
and Perrine had fattened, and which weighed 
at least twelve pounds. Its golden skin rose 
here and there, thus proving the delicacy and 
tenderness of the flesh beneath, and present- 
ing a most delectable spectacle to my approv- 
ing eyes. 

Bravo ! ” I exclaimed. But the clotted 
cream, Suzon, is it a success ? And is there 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 87 

plenty of it ? And have you given attention 
to the dressing of the salad ? ” 

‘‘I am rather in the habit, mademoiselle, 
of doing well what I do do. And along with 
that, I don’t suppose this gentleman is either 
a prince or an emperor. He is a man just 
like any other, and will make a shift with 
whatever is given him.” 

^‘A man like any other, Suzon? ” said I 
indignantly. Then you can’t have seen 
him.” 

‘‘ Have n’t seen him, mademoiselle, indeed ? 
Well, I should rather say I have, and heard 
him, too ! A pretty way for a Christian to 
behave — battering the door of a decent house 
almost to pieces ! After that you can set 
your cap at him if you like ! ” 

I had a sharp answer on the tip of my 
tongue, but thought it prudent to pause. 
Suzon would be perfectly capable of burning 
the turkey to get even with me ! 

A few minutes after, we passed into the 
dining-room, and I could not help darting a 
despairing glance at the dirty, worn-out tap- 
estry, now falling to pieces. Then Suzon’s 
way of laying the table was singular, to say 
the least of it. Three salt-cellars occupied 
the place of an epergne in the middle of the 


88 ■ MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

table ; the silver was thrown here and there 
at haphazard ; the bottles appeared to be 
chasing one another ; while a solitary de- 
canter was so situated that only by almost 
dislocating one’s shoulder could a person 
reach a hand to it, the table being three 
sizes too large. 

For the first time in my life I felt intui- 
tively that all the laws of symmetry were 
violated by the grotesque taste of Suzon. 

But M. de Conprat had one of those happy 
dispositions that see the best side of every- 
thing, and had, besides, the knack of making 
himself at home wherever he happened to be. 

He gave a satisfied glance at the table, 
swallowed the soup, his tongue running on as 
fast as ever, complimented Suzon, and when 
the turkey made its appearance his delight 
found expression in a cry of admiration. 

You must confess, M. le Cure,” said he, 
“ that after all, life is a happy invention and 
Heraclitus was a good deal of a humbug.” 

We, must not make light of the philoso- 
phers,” answered the cure ; you generally 
find something good in them.” 

^^It is charitable of you to say so, M. le 
Cure. As for myself, if I were the govern- 
ment I should let out the madmen and put 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 89 

the philosophers in their place. I should take 
care to clap them all together in one build- 
ing, too : they would devour one another the 
quicker.’’ 

Who is Heraclitus ? ” asked my aunt. 

“ A driveller, madame, who spent all his 
time whimpering. Good heavens ! can you 
imagine anything more ridiculous? And it 
is for this his name has been handed down 
to posterity ! ” 

Perhaps,” I intimated, he had to live 
with an aunt, and that s'oured .him.” 

M. de Conprat regarded me with a look of 
amazement and then burst into a roar of 
laughter. The cure opened wide his eyes in 
displeasure, but my aunt, who was grappling 
with the turkey, carving it with a good deal 
of neatness, I must confess, did not hear me. 

History has left this fact unrecorded, 
cousin.” 

^^At any rate,” said I, think twice before 
attacking the ancients ; M. le Cure will tear 
your eyes out.” 

“ Ah, the rogues ! Use n’t they to make my 
blood boil ! The only recollections I retain 
of them are the impositions after school hours 
I had to endure on their account.” 

Allow me,” said the cure, coming to the 


90 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


rescue of his friends, now likely to be ruined 
forever in my estimation, ‘‘ allow me ! You 
cannot deny certain fine virtues, certain heroic 
deeds that ” — 

“ Illusions, my dear cure, illusions ! ” inter- 
rupted Paul de Conprat ; they were rascals of 
the deepest dye ! But they are dead, and so, 
to take the poor devils of the present day — 
one of whom is worth a score of them — a 
peg lower, people pretend to be lost in admi- 
ration of the incredible virtues of your 
ancients ! By Jove, but is n’t this turkey 
excellent ! ” 

He kept on in this style with never a pause, 
all the time eating with an appetite and a 
gusto that baffle description. He was helped 
again and again, and after every helping his 
plate was cleared with such rapidity that at 
a certain moment my aunt, the cur4, and my- 
self held our forks suspended aloft, utterly 
dumfounded at the scene before us. 

You had fair notice,” said he, laughing, 
“ that I was as hungry as a church mouse, 
a thing that occurs, for that matter, three 
hundred and sixty-five times per annum.” 

^^What a sum you must spend on your 
table!” cried my aunt, wlio had an, eye only 
for the mercantile aspect of a question, and 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 91 

was always sure to say what should be left 
unsaid. 

Twenty-three thousand three hundred and 
seventy-seven francs, madame,’’ in a tone of 
the utmost seriousness. 

Im — possible ! ” mumbled my aunt, in a 
sort of stupor. 

You look perfectly happy, monsieur ! ” 
said the cure, rubbing his hands. 

‘‘ Happy, M. le Cure ? I should rather 
think so ! AndJ frankly now, is it quite nat- 
ural to be unhappy ? ’’ 

Why, yes, sometimes,” answered the cure, 
smiling. 

Oh, pshaw ! people are, most of the time, 
unhappy through their own fault, because 
they take a wrong line in life at the outset. 
So you see it is not misfortune that exists, 
it is human folly that exists.” 

But the latter is a misfortune in itself,” 
replied the cure. 

^^Of a rather negative character, M. le 
Cure, and, because my neighbor happens to 
be a fool, it by no means follows I should 
imitate him.” 

“ You are fond of paradox, monsieur.” 

No, but it drives me wild to see the lives • 
of so many people darkened by an unhealthy 


92 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


imagination. I fancy they do not eat enough 
— live on larks or boiled eggs — and play the 
mischief with their brains as well as their 
stomachs. I am enamored of life and think 
every one should find it as beautiful as I do ; 
it has only one fault : it ends — and ends so 
soon ! ’’ 

A clean sweep had now been made of every- 
thing — turkey, salad, cream ; and my aunt 
was regarding the skeleton before her with an 
expression that was no longer gracious : she 
had reckoned on making her repast off the 
remains of the bird for several days still. 

We were rising from table when Suzon 
half opened the door and, thrusting her head 
in, said sharply : 

I have made coffee, shall I take it in ? ’’ 

Who gave you leave to ’’ — my aunt was 
beginning. 

Yes, yes,” said I, interrupting her quickly. 
‘‘ Bring it in at once.” 

I could have kissed her for this good turn 
of hers, but my aunt did not share my opin- 
ion. She left the table, evidently intending 
to have it out with Suzon, and we did not see 
her again until we were in the drawing-room. 

^^That cook of yours is first-rate, cousin,” 
said Paul de Conprat, sipping his coffee. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 


93 


Yes, but so surly ! ’’ 

Ob, that ’s neither here nor there ! ” 

‘‘And, by the way, what do you think of 
my aunt ?” 1 asked confidentially. 

“Well — she ’s a — rather majestic woman,’’ 
he returned, just a little embarrassed. 

“ Majestic, is it ? Disagreeable, you mean, 
don’t you ? ” 

“ Reine ! ” murmured the cure. 

“Then let us change the subject, M. le 
Cure. Still, I only wish I had my cousin’s 
happy disposition and so be able to see the 
good side of my aunt.” 

“Have a little practical philosophy, my 
charming cousin ; it is the only sure basis of 
happiness, and, to my thinking, the only really 
sensible system of philosophy going.” 

“What a misfortune it is you are not my 
aunt ! How fond we should be of each 
other ! ” • 

“No d6ubt about the latter point, you may 
take my word for it,” he answered, laughing. 
“ It is a result we ’d arrive at without calling 
in the help of philosophy. Still, if you have 
no objection, I should prefer to keep to my 
sex and be your uncle.” 

“Nothing could please me better. I ’m not 
like Francis I. — women are my aversion.” 


94 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

Indeed ? ” he returned with a hearty 
laugh. “ You are acquainted with the tastes 
of Francis I., then ? ” 

The cure threw up his hands in despair, 
but M. de Conprat met his eye with an ex- 
pressive twinkle in his own that said clearly : 

Don’t be uneasy ; I understand ! 

This pantomime grated on my nerves, and 
I made a violent effort to get at its mean- 
ing. 

“ By the way, speaking of uncles, are you 
well acquainted with M. de Pavol ? ” 

Yes, my property lies within three miles 
of his.’’ 

‘‘ What sort of a person is his daughter ? ” 
often played with her when she was a 
child, but for the last three or four years I 
have lost sight of her. She is said to be very 
beautiful.” 

How I should like to live at Pavol,” I 
sighed ; we could meet so often ! ” 

Still, it ’s just possible, my little cousin, 
you might not care for me if you knew more 
about me, although you can really accept my 
assurance that I am not at all a bad sort. 
Except that I have a passion for turkey and 
an inordinate liking for pretty women I am 
not aware that I have any small vices.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 95 

A liking for pretty women ? But surely 
that is not a fault, is it ? Whyf I detest 
ugly persons myself — my aunt, for instance. 
But to place a turkey on the same level as 
a pretty woman is hardly flattering to the 
pretty woman, cousin.” 

Quite correct ; I confess the phrase was 
rather unfortunate.” 

“ I forgive you,” I said gayly. And now 
do you think I am pretty ? ” 

For the last two hours at least I had kept 
on repeating in my own mind that I must 
not let the opportunity slip of getting a 
square, authoritative opinion on a subject of 
such thrilling personal interest. Ever since 
the beginning of dinner I watched impatiently 
for an opportunity of putting my question. 
ISTot that I had any doubt as to the answer ; 
but to be told you are pretty, point blank, 
without any beating about the bush, by some- 
thing different from a cure, — oh, it would be 
simply too delightful ! 

‘‘ Pretty, cousin ? why, you are bewitching ! 
Never have I seen finer eyes or a lovelier 
mouth ! ” 

How happy you make me ! and how nice 
men are, let my aunt say what she likes ! ” 

Your respected aunt does not like men ? 


96 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


But that is a matter of course ; she has 
passed tffe age of coquetry.’’ 

Coquetry ! they never mention it to me. 
Do you think it requisite to be a coquette ? ” 

“ Decidedly, cousin ; in my eyes it is a 
great accomplishment.” 

You never taught me that, M. le Cure ! ” 
I cried. 

During this conversation the unhappy cure 
was having a foretaste of the pains of purga- 
tory. He mopped his forehead and made a 
wry face over his coffee, which seemingly 
tasted bitter in his mouth. 

M. de Conprat is making fun of you,” 
said he. 

“ Is that true, cousin ? ” 

Oh, by no manner of means,” replied 
Paul de Conprat, to all appearance immensely 
amused. In my opinion a woman who is 
not a coquette is not a woman.” 

“ Then be sure I shall do my best to be- 
come one.” 

Mademoiselle de Lavalle, it is about time 
we went to the drawing-room,” said the cure, 
rising. 

Good ! ” I thought. “ There ’s the cure 
angry now ; and yet I ’m sure I have said 
nothing wrong.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 


97 


The rain was over, the clouds had scattered, 
and I proposed to Paul de Conprat to take a 
turn in the garden. 

We went out together, without asking any- 
body’s leave, followed by the cure, who shot 
glances that were almost menacing after us, 
and evidently thought his dear lamb on the 
high road to perdition. 

We ran about like children in the wet grass, 
laughing heartily when the water trickled 
down our legs and ankles. We chattered and 
gossiped, or at least I did, relating all the 
incidents in my life, my little annoyances, 
my dreams, and my dislikes. 

Was there ever such a delightful, delicious 
evening ! 

M. de Conprat climbed a cherry tree, and 
when he shook it all the rain collected on 
the leaves dropped upon me. Looking down, 
he cried, with his mouth full of cherries, that 
he had never seen anything so beautiful as 
the raindrops that sparkled like jewels on my 
lovely hair, which could never have an orna- 
ment so ideally perfect. 

And Suzon,” I thought, who said he was 
a man ^ just like any other ’ ! How can 
people be so idiotic ! ” 

We returned to the drawing-room, in which 


98 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


a blazing fire had been made to dry us, and, 
seated side by side, continued our conversa- 
tion, which assumed a more earnest, and even 
a mysterious tone. 

My aunt, who was struck dumb by my 
audacious freedom, and the gayety beaming 
from my face, said nothing. The cure, al- 
though enchanted to see I was enjoying 
myself, was, notwithstanding, so perplexed 
that he forgot to interfere. 

Was there ever such an evening ! 

At last, M. de Conprat rose to depart, and 
we accompanied him to the courtyard. 

He took an affectionate farewell of the cure, 
and thanked my aunt. When it was my turn 
he held my hand and whispered ; 

I wish this evening would have never 
come to an end, fair cousin.’’ 

‘‘ And I, too ! But you will return, won’t 
you ? ” 

Most assuredly ; and I hope in a short 
time.” 

He raised my hand to his lips, and — 
well, there must certainly be a very strong 
element of perversity in human nature — this 
homage was for me a pleasure so novel, so 
keen, so altogether perfect, that I had the 
highly improper idea of — good heavens ! 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


99 


must I confess it? — yes, I had the idea — 
which was not executed — of throwing my 
arms about his neck, and kissing him on both 
cheeks, in spite of my aunt, in spite of the 
cure, who was watching us with a vigilant 
eye, like some new-fangled kind of dragon, — 
a dragon with chubby cheeks and the kind- 
liest of hearts. 


CHAPTEK VII. 

F or several days after M. de Conprat 
left, my soul was in a state of blissful 
intoxication that I should find hard to de- 
scribe. I experienced a multiplicity of sen- 
sations, outwardly manifested by a series of 
antics of every sort, especially pirouettes, this 
exercise having long served me as an outlet 
for my numerous and varied emotions. 

When I had twirled round on my heel until 
I was tired I flung myself down on the grass, 
and, with my eyes riveted on the sky, touched 
lightly on a lot of fancies, without really 
thinking of anything. I was in that exquisite 
state of semi-consciousness, that drowsy, 
dreamy repose, which resembles sleep and 
yet is very much awake; it is one of the 


100 MY UNCLE AND MY CUEE. 

sweetest memories in my past life ; it is the 
period from which I date my passionate 
enthusiasm for the canopy of heaven ! That 
canopy has ever since seemed worthj^ of sym- 
pathizing with my thoughts, whether they 
were grave or gay, lively or severe. 

After giving full rein to my imagination, 
and letting it gallop at random through these 
shady and darksome byways, I checked its 
course, turned it once more into the light, and 
permitted it to dwell exclusively on — M. de 
Conprat. } chuckled over the recollection 
of his honest face, his kindly laugh, and his 
white teeth. I thought, wistfully, of the kiss 
he had imprinted on my hand, and felt tickled 
at the notion of having been so near kissing 
him on both cheeks in return. For a long 
time I remained absorbed in such like delec- 
table sensations, and then I began asking my- 
self why my heart was so tremblingly alive to 
all these varied emotions. 

When I reached this delicate point my 
imagination was again overcast. My ideas 
grew so hazy, in fact so altogether nebulous, 
that, after a struggle, I abandoned the task 
of reducing them to anything like order, and, 
instead, I concentrated my thoughts on a 
mouth that pleased me, eyes that smiled on 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 101 


me, and a face whose expression I was deter- 
mined never to forget. 

Still, my ideas — and what odd things ideas 
are ! — would not leave me long in peace, and 
I was soon again at their mercy, was soon 
again straying through the same misty paths, 
when, suddenly, one day, as I was thinking of 
strengthening certain impressions of mine by 
comparing them with those of the heroines I 
fancied most, a light broke through the clouds, 
revealing to my eyes a point of momentous 
importance. 

I discovered I was in love, and that love 
was the most delightful thing in creation. It 
was a discovery that thrilled me with joy. In 
the first place a new charm was added to my 
life, a charm not the less real for being just a 
little bit vague ; and then, if I was in love, 
surely I must be loved in return. Since I loved 
M. de Conprat, because everything about him 
seemed to me charming, the sight of me must 
have troubled his heart in similar fashion, for 
he told me I was bewitching.’’ My logic, 
which stood proxy for a total want of experi- 
ence, did not go any further, but it formed an 
ample basis for my system of reasoning and 
made me happy. 

One discovery leads to another, and it began 


102 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

to dawn on me that charity had, after all, only 
a very slight connection with the fondness of 
Francis I. for women in general and the Count- 
ess Anne in particular. Moreover, love and 
affection must be two very different things : I 
simply worshipped my cure, yet I never felt 
the least desire to kiss him, while on the 
other hand, I should be nothing loath to fall 
on the neck of Paul de Conprat. In fine, it 
was very ridiculous to talk mysteriously and 
evasively about a thing that was so natural 
and so evidently exempt from even the shadow 
of wrong. 

^^But then, a cure,’’ I thought, must have 
some very queer and mistaken ideas about 
love, for, as he cannot marry, he cannot love. 
And yet Francis I. was married, and — Oh, 
it ’s all a puzzle ! I must have some light 
thrown on it.” 

My mind was in such a chaos that, notwith- 
standing the somewhat disdainful estimate I 
had formed of the narrow views of my cure, 
I decided to have a discussion with him on 
this delicate question. 

The poor cure was perfectly aware of my 
disturbed mental condition, but he had too 
much shrewdness and common sense to lead 
me to imagine that he attached any impor- 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 103 

tance to what he saw : he did not care to have 
me make avowals that might give form and 
substance to impressions Avhich were now 
vague and obscure. He did everything in 
his power to turn my mind to other objects ; 
and, with this view, he began to visit Le 
Buisson every day, prolonging the lessons in- 
definitely. 

We were sitting by our window; my aunt, 
who had been in ill health for some time, had 
retired to her room ; my wits were wool-gather- 
ing, as usual, and the cure was doing his best 
to explain a problem to me. 

“ M. le Cure,’’ said I, can you guess what 
is the most entrancing thing in the whole 
world ? ” 

What is it, Eeine ? ” 

‘‘ Love, M. le Cur4.” 

What a strange subject to talk about, my 
child ! ” cried the cur4, very ill at ease. 

“ A subject I am thoroughly acquainted with, 
I assure you,” I answered, shaking my head, 
with an air of wisdom. “ I am ever asking 
myself why it is you never mention a thing 
that is of every-day occurrence.” 

And now you see what comes from read- 
ing novels, mademoiselle : you take mere 
fancies for realities.” 


104 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


‘‘Oh, M. le Cure! And you knowing how 
wrong it is for people to say what they don’t 
think I You are quite as well aware as I am 
that people do love each other in real life, and 
that nothing can be more charming.” 

“ This is a matter with which young girls 
have nothing to do, Keine, and you must not 
speak of it.” 

“A matter with which young girls have 
nothing to do ? Why, they are the persons 
who love and are loved ! ” 

“What an unfortunate man I am,” cried 
the cure, “ to have to do with such a head ! ” 

“ Don’t speak evil of my head, M. le Cure ; 
I am very fond of it, especially since M. de 
Conprat said it was pretty.” 

“M. de Conprat was making fun of you, 
Eeine. You may rest assured he looked on 
you as a little girl of no account at all.” 

“ You are quite mistaken,” I answered, 
offended, “ for he kissed my hand. And do 
you know the idea that came into ' my head 
when he did so ? ” 

“ Well, well, let us hear it,” said the cure, 
on thorns. 

“ Why, M. le Cur4, I was within an inch of 
jumping on his neck ! ” 

“What idiotic folly I As if a person 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 105 


jumped on another person’s neck when neither 
of them was acquainted.” 

^^Yes, yes, I know, but he — And then, 
if he had happened to be a woman such a 
notion would never have occurred to me for a 
moment.” 

“ Why so, Keine ? But what nonsense 
you talk ! ” 

Oh, because ” — 

A few moments’ silence followed this pro- 
found response, and I spent them in looking 
sidewise at the cure, who was moving briskly 
up and down, and taking pinches of snuff, to 
hide his agitation. 

“ My dear cur4,” said I insinuatingly, “ if 
you were only just a little good-natured ! ” 
Well, what would happen then, Eeine ? ” 

^‘Suppose I should ask you a few little 
questions about matters my mind is running 
on?” 

The cure plumped down in his arm-chair, 
like a man who has on a sudden come to a 
great resolution. 

Well, Keine, I will hear you. Better an 
open confession of what troubles you than 
have you racking your brains and turning 
your head with all this vague folly.” 

I ’m not racking my brains, M. le Cure, nor 


106 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

is my head turning, either. But I am think- 
ing a good deal about love, because ” — 

Because ? ’’ 

Oh, nothing — And, to make a beginning, 
will you tell why it is that, if you were to 
kiss my hand, I should think such a thing 
very ridiculous and not at all pleasant, 
although I love you with all my heart, while 
my feelings are the exact opposite when I 
fancy M. de Conprat doing so ? 

What — What ’s that you are saying, 
Beine ? ” 

I am saying that the idea of M. de Con- 
prat kissing my hand is very pleasant, while 
the idea of you ” — 

“ But, my child, your question is absurd, 
and the fancy you speak of has no meaning 
and is not worth worrying your head about.” 

Is n’t it indeed ? That is not my opinion 
at all. It is a subject I think on very often, 
and this is whatT have discovered : the action 
of M. de Conprat pleased me because he is 
young and might be my husband, while you 
are old, and a cure can never marry.” 

“ Go on, go on,” answered the cure me- 
chanically. 

^‘For a person is always in love with her 
husband, M. le Cure, is she not ? ” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 107 

“ Of course, no doubt about that.” 

Now, M. le Cur4, tell me, is it true that 
men sometimes love several women ? ” 

I know nothing about it,” said the cure, 
bristling up. 

Oh, yes, you do, M. le Cure, it is your 
duty. A husband consequently loves another 
woman besides his wife ? Francis I., although 
married, loved the Countess Anne, did he 
not ? ” 

Francis 1. was a scoundrel,” cried the 
cure, now thoroughly exasperated, and that 
Buckingham you are so fond of was another ! ” 

“Oh, we all have our own little peculiar- 
ities,” I retorted, “ and I cannot see, for the 
life of me, why these two should be called 
scoundrels because they loved several women. 
Perhaps Queen Claude and Madame Bucking- 
ham were like my aunt. And then, I have 
made another discovery :4^eelings are things 
that cannot be controlled, and they could no 
more help loving than I ” — 

“ What, Keine ? ” 

“ Oh, nothing, M. le Cure ! But I am 
afraid I have a weakness for the kind of peo- 
pin you call scoundrels, for Buckingham is 
simply enchanting ! ” 

“ Why, my child, I have done my best to 


108 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


instruct you on certain matters since you 
began reading Walter Scott, and it would 
seem as if you have not understood a word 
of all that I said.” 

Yes, M. le Cure, I have, but then your ex- 
planations have not been very clear, and there 
are so many things I do not understand ! 
It is all so strange,” I went on dreamily. 

And now, M. le Cur6, will you tell me why 
love makes you angry ? ” 

Iteine,” said the cure, losing patience, 
we have had enough of this. You have a 
way of putting questions that renders it im- 
possible for me to answer them. Now, let me 
tell you very seriously that there are certain 
subjects which you cannot understand, and 
which it is not proper for you to talk about, 
because you are too young.” 

The cure placed his hat under his arm, and 
escaped. I ran to $he threshold and shouted 
after him : 

You may say what you like, my dear cure, 
but I know all about love ; there ’s nothing 
like it in the world ! Vive V am, our ! ” 

The next two days passed without any sign 
of a visit from the cur4. I grew remorseful 
for having teased him so shamefully, and, on 
the morning of the third day, I took the road 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 109 

to the presbytery, prepared to make him the 
profoundest apology I could think of. He 
was in the kitchen, seated before a scanty 
breakfast, which he was devouring with as 
much relish as appetite. 

M. le Cure,’’ said I, in a tone compara- 
tively humble, you are angry with me ? ” 

“ A little, my dear child. You see you 
never pay any attention to what I say.” 

I will never speak of love again, M. le 
Cure, I promise it.” 

It would be better, E-eine, if you tried not 
to think of matters you cannot understand.” 

Oh ! — not understand, indeed ! ” I ex- 
claimed, taking fire at once. I understand 
as well as anybody, and, in spite of all the 
cur4s on the face of the earth, I maintain 
that ” — 

There we are again ! ” interrupted the 
cure dismally ; you have broken your prom- 
ise already ! ” 

‘‘ You are right, my dear cure ; but I assure 
you it is a subject about which a cure knows 
nothing.” 

^^Nor Eeine de Lavalle, either. I will give 
you your lesson to-day, my child.” 

And so ended the most serious breach I 
have ever had with my cure. 


110 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

However, the days slipped by and, as Paul 
de Conprat did not return, my nervous system 
was completely shaken and became so irritable 
as to threaten the very worst consequences. 
A month after my memorable adventure I 
lost all hope, my tranquillity with it, and this 
misfortune, aided by my general weariness 
of everything, plunged me into a dull melan- 
choly. 

This was the time when the cure had his 
quarrel with my aunt and found himself 
turned out of doors. 

Seated under the drawing-room window, I 
heard the following conversation : 

Madame,’’ said the cure, I have come to 
speak of Reine.” 

“ About what ? ” 

The child has fallen into a state of lan- 
guor, madame. M. de Conprat’s visit gave her 
glimpses of a world of which she had already 
learned something from, the romances she has 
been reading. She must have amusement.” 

Amusement ! And where, pray, can I get 
her amusement ? I am too ill to go any- 
where.” 

I know it, madame, and so I do not ex- 
pect the amusement she needs should come 
from you. You must write to M. de Pavol 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. Ill 

and ask him to receive Eeine for a long 
visit.’’ 

Write to M. de Pavol ? Certainly not. 
If I did, the child would not care to return.” 

That is quite possible, but it is a second- 
ary matter, of which we shall speak after- 
wards. The main point is that, as she must 
some day or other live in society, it is, in my 
opinion, necessary for her to change her mode 
of life and become familiar with many things 
of which she has not the slightest idea at 
present.” 

“ That is not my notion at all, M. le Cur4, 
and Eeine shall not leave the place where 
she is.” 

But, madame,” rejoined the cure, who was 
getting warm, I repeat that it is absolutely 
necessary. Eeine has fallen into melancholy ; 
Eeine’s brain is very active and her mind is 
constantly on the stretch. I am pretty sure 
she fancies herself in love with M. de Con- 
prat.” 

What have I to do with that ? ” said my , 
aunt, to whom the reasoning of the cure was 
a closed book. 

Some one has written, madame, that soli- 
tude is the devil’s counsellor, and it is per- 
fectly true, at least as far as youth is 


112 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

concerned. Solitude is the very worst thing 
possible for Reine ; a little diversion will 
banish from her mind what is, on the whole, 
little more than a childish fancy.’’ 

“ What queer ideas cures have ! ” I thought. 
To speak so lightly of so grave a matter, 
and think I could ever forget M. de Conprat ! ” 
‘‘ M. le Cur4,” answered my aunt in her 
driest tones, ‘^please mind your own busi- 
ness ; I shall do as I wish, not as you wish.” 

“ Madame, I love this child with my whole 
he'art, and I have not the slightest intention 
of allowing her to be made miserable,” re- 
plied the cure, in a tone of voice entirely new 
to me. “ You have buried her alive here in 
Le Buisson, you have never done anything to 
make her life pleasant for her, and I am jus- 
tified in saying that, but for me, "she would 
have grown up in ignorance and dulness, like 
some little pale, discolored plant from whicli 
the sunlight* is excluded. I repeat what 
I said before — you must write to M. de 
Pavol.” 

Oh, this is going too far ! ” cried my 
aunt furiously ; “ am I not mistress in my 
own house ? Leave the house, M. le Cure, 
and let me never see you enter it again ! ” 
Very well, madame, I know my duty 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 113 

now, and it is plain to me at the present 
moment that the reason why I have not 
acted earlier is because the selfish pleasure I 
felt in so often seeing my little Reine blinded 
me.” 

I was all in tears when the cure came upon 
me in the avenue. 

My dear cure, can it be possible ? 
Turned out of doors on my account ! What 
is going to become of us if we are never to 
see each other any more ? ” 

Then you heard the dispute, my child ? ” 
Yes, yes ; I was under the window. Oh, 
what a woman ! what a ” — 

Come, come,, no excitement, Reine,” an- 
swered the cure, who was himself quite flushed 
and trembling. “I intend writing to your 
uncle this very evening.” 

Write, my dear cur4 ; write at once. I 
want him to come for me immediately.” 

“Let us hope he will,” replied the cur6, 
with a smile that was kindly, and just a little 
sad. 

But various duties prevented him from 
writing that evening, and, on the next day, 
my aunt, who had been fighting off her sick- 
ness for several weeks, fell dangerously ill. 
Five days later Death knocked at the door 


114 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 

of Le Buisson and changed the complexion 
of my life. 


CHAPTER VIIL 

I TOOK refuge in the presbytery immedi- 
ately after the death of my aunt, who 
never once asked to see me during her ill- 
ness, and whom Suzon cared for with much 
devotion. 

The nure had written to M. de Pavol, in- 
forming him of Madame de Lavalle’s sick- 
ness, but the progress of the disease was so 
rapid that my uncle got the despatch announc- 
ing its fatal termination before he was 
able to answer the cure’s letter. He tele- 
graphed at once that it was impossible for 
him to be present at the funeral. 

The next day we received a letter from 
him saying that he was only partially re- 
covered from an attack of gout, and could 
not go to Le Buisson. He requested the 
cure to accompany me, a few days later on, 
to C — , where he hoped to be well enough 
to meet me. 

My aunt was buried without pomp or cere- 
mony. She had never been liked, and her 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 115 

passage to the other world was not attended 
by any great parade of sympathy. 

During my return from the funeral I did 
my best to feel sorrowful, but the attempt 
was unsuccessful. All the reproaches of my 
conscience could not hinder my heart and 
soul from being stirred by a sense of deliver- 
ance. If I had then been acquainted with 
the saying of a certain celebrity, I should cer- 
tainly have applied it to my own case, and 
exclaimed, in a magnificent outburst of mis- 
anthropy : 

‘‘ I know not what goes on in the heart of 
a miscreant, but I do know the heart of a 
rather good little girl, and what I see there 
appalls me.’’ 

But as this aphorism was then entirely un- 
known to me I could not use it as an excuse 
for my indifference, and so give satisfaction 
to the ghostly shade of my aunt. My uncle 
had fixed the 10th of August for my depart- 
ure, and I spent the two previous days with 
the cure, whose kindly face underwent a 
change from hour to hour as the time of our 
separation grew nearer. 

He had an excellent breakfast ready for 
me on Tuesday morning, and we sat opposite 
each other for the last time and tried to 


116 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


strengthen ourselves for the ordeal. But every 
mouthful choked us, and I had all the trouble 
in the 'world to keep back my tears. 

The poor cure had passed a sleepless night. 
His sorrow was too great to allow him to 
close an eye, and so, not being able to escort 
me to C — , he spent the night in writing a 
letter of seventeen pages, in which, as I 
learned afterwards, he gave my uncle a full 
enumeration of all my merits, great, small, 
and middling. Of my defects he did not say 
a word. 

My dear little child,” said he, after a 
long silence, ^^you will not forget your old 
cure ? ” 

“Never, never!” I cried impetuously. 

“And you will not forget my counsels, 
either, I hope. Distrust your imagination, 
my little Reine. I compare it to a beautiful 
flame that gives light and life to the under- 
standing when it is fed discreetly ; but if 
it be fed excessively it becomes a bonfire 
which often sets the house ablaze, the con- 
flagration leaving nothing behind it but ashes 
and scoriae.” 

“ I will try to manage the flame judiciously, 
M. le Cure ; but I must confess to a partiality 
for bonfires.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 117 


That ’s very well, but beware of a con- 
flagration ! Do not play with fire, Eeine.” 

hlot even with a tiny little bit of a bon- 
fire, M. le Cure ? Why, such a thing is charm- 
ing ! And, if there is any danger of a confla- 
gration, it is so easy to throw a little cold 
water on it.’’ 

But where are you to find the cold water, 
my child?” 

Oh, I don’t know now, but I shall learn 
some day, perhaps ! ” 

God forbid ! ” cried the cure “ The cold 
water you would find, my dear little child, 
would be the deceptions and sorrows of life, 
and I will pray ardently every day that they 
may be removed from your path.” 

The tears got the better of me at these 
words of my cure, and I swallowed a large 
glass of •water to calm my emotion. 

Before leaving,” I said, I ought to warn 
you that I think I have a very decided taste 
for coquetry.” 

That is the weak point in all women, I 
know that much,” said the cure, with his 
benevolent smile, but you must not go too 
far, Beine. For that matter, you will be 
very much in society, and your experience 
there will enable you to reduce your senti- 


118 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


ments to the proper equilibrium, and then 
your uncle is perfectly capable of acting as 
your guide.’’ 

Society must be delightful, M. le Cure, 
and, as I am so pretty, I am sure to please ” — 

No doubt, no doubt, but beware of exag- 
gerated ‘compliments ; beware of vanity.” 

“ Oh, it is natural to like to please, surely 
there is no harm in that ! ” 

Hum ! that is a rather easy-going kind of 
morality,” answered the cure, ruffling up his 
hair. ‘‘ Well, well, that sort of reasoning 
belongs to your time of ] if e, and, thank God ! 
you are not yet in the situation of the Eccle- 
siast when he exclaimed : ^ Vanity of vanities, 
and all is vanity ! ’ ” 

What an extravagant person that Eccle- 
siast of yours must have been ! But then, he 
is so old ! I presume his ideas mustf be quite 
obsolete at this time of day.” 

Well, well, let us put that aside. It 
would be too much to expect that the Holy 
Scriptures and the thoughts of a poor country 
priest should be comprehended by a girl who 
is young and pretty, and who, I can see, has 
anything but a modest opinion of her feat- 
ures.” 

He looked at me with a smile, but his lips 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 119 


trembled, for tbe hour of separation was at 
hand. 

“ Take care not to catch cold on this jour- 
ney, E,eine.” 

Why, M. le Cure, we are now in August, 
and the heat is stifling ! 

^Wery true,” answered the cure, who was 
losing his head a little. Then do not wrap 
yourself up excessively ; you might get a chill 
afterwards.” 

After a few useless attempts to swallow 
some crumbs of bread and pastry we left the 
table. 

Oh, how grieved I am to leave you,” I 
cried, suddenly bursting into a fit of sobbing ; 

how grieved I am to leave you, my dear, 
dear cure ! ” 

Don’t weep, don’t weep, this is quite 
absurd ! ” said the cure, unconscious that the 
big tears were rolling down his own cheeks. 

^^Ah, my cure,” I resumed, seized with 
sudden remorse, ‘‘ how often I have made you 
angry ! ” 

No, no, you have been the joy of my life, 
you have been all my happiness.” 

And, oh, my poor cure ! what is going to 
become of you without me ? ” 

The cure did not answer. He took a few 


120 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

long strides across the hall, blew his nose 
violently, and succeeded in controlling the 
emotion that clung to his throat, demanding 
to find an outlet in a sob. 

The maringote was at the door. Perrine, 
arrayed in all her finery, was to keep me com- 
pany as far as C — , and there hand me over 
to my uncle. The task of driving us was 
entrusted to the farmer instead of to Suzon, 
who was entirely absorbed in her grief and 
was to have charge of Le Buisson for a 
time. 

I directed Jean to go on, and the cure 
and I walked together a little piece of the 
road, so as to be with each other as long as 
possible. 

“ I will write to you every day, M. le Cure.’’ 

“ I do not ask so much as that, my dear 
child. Just write to me once a month, and 
tell me everything.” 

I will write everything, everything ! — 
even my ideas about love.” 

That ’s to be seen ! ” said the cure, with an 
incredulous smile. There will be so much 
novelty in the life you will lead, and you will 
have so many distractions, that I do not count 
much on your punctuality.” 

Meanwhile Jean had stopped to wait for 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 121 

US, and I saw it was time to start. I grasped 
the hands of my cure, weeping from my very 
heart. 

“ Life has some ugly moments, M. le Cure ! ’’ 
They ’ll pass, they ’ll pass,” he answered, 
with a gasp. Good-by, my good and dear 
little child; do not forget, and distrust, dis- 
trust ” — 

But he was unable to finish the sentence, 
and helped me hurriedly into the carryall. 

I took my aunt’s old seat, and was crushed 
on one side by a trunk that had no lock, and 
on the other by the innumerable and queerly 
shaped bundles made up by Perrine. 

“ Adieu, my cure ! Adieu, my good old 
cure ! ” I cried. 

He made an affectionate gesture and turned 
round abruptly. I had a view of him through 
my tears striding along at a great rate and 
with his hat on his head, a most signal proof 
that he was not only in the most violent con- 
dition of mental and moral excitement, but 
that all his ideas were turned upside-down 
entirely. 

After sobbing for a good ten minutes I 
came to the conclusion that it was time to 
follow the advice of Perrine, who was re- 
peating in every variety of tone : 


122 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

Do be reasonable, ma’m’selle ; do be rea- 
sonable ! ’’ 

I stuffed my handkerchief away in my 
pocket and began to reflect. 

In truth, life is very strange I Who could 
have imagined a fortnight ago that my dreams 
would have been realized so speedily, and 
that I should see M. de Conprat so soon?* 
This seductive idea scattered the last clouds 
that overshadowed my life and set me think- 
ing that the skies were beautiful, life was 
sweet, and aunts who depart for heaven or 
for purgatory were gifted with superior wis- 
dom. 

My second thoughts dealt with my uncle. 
I looked forward with extreme anxiety to the 
impression I was likely to produce on him, 
and I was keenly conscious of the absurdity 
of the black gown and queer hat in which, 
thanks to Perrine, I was dressed. They 
made me look like a scarecrow. The hat es- 
pecially made me feel as if I were on the rack. 
It was made out of crape which had been in 
use at the time of M. de Lavalle’s death, and 
looked as if a band of saucy snails had chosen 
it for the scene of their frolics. That it dis- 
figured me frightfully was as clear as noon- 
day, and, when this idea became insupportable, 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 123 


I took it off, crumpled it up, and put it in my 
pocket, the depth and roominess of which did 
credit to Suzon’s practical genius. 

Next, the dread of appearing stupid troubled 
me : I knew that a multitude of things that 
must seem natural to everybody else would 
be to me a constant source of wonder and ad- 
miration. In order, then, that my self-esteem 
might not encounter the risk of attracting 
ridicule, I resolved to hide any surprise I 
might feel with the greatest care. 

These various considerations prevented me 
from finding the journey long, and I was 
under the impression that we were a consid- 
erable distance from C — just as we were on 
the point of entering it. We drove straight 
to the station, after passing through the town 
as rapidly as the stiffened legs of our horse 
allowed. 

My uncle being neither tall nor thin, I had 
naturally painted him in my own imagination 
as lank and long. I was somewhat taken 
aback, therefore, to see a good-natured-look- 
ing man coming toward the carryall and cry- 
ing in as loud a voice as my uncle ever used : 

Good-day, niece, I really believe I was 
nearly kept waiting.’’ 

1 An observation made by Louis XIV. when his carriage 
arrived barely at the appointed time. — TV. 


124 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


He helped me out of the carriage and gave 
me a cordial kiss. Then, after looking me 
over attentively from head to foot, he said : 

^^No bigger than a fairy, but devilishly 
pretty, for all that ! ” 

^‘1 am quite of your opinion, uncle,” I 
answered, modestly oasting down my eyes. 

‘‘ Ah ! you are of my opinion, are you ? ” 

“ Of course ; it is the opinion of the cure, 
and of — But here is a letter he wrote you, 
uncle.” 

Why is he not here ? ” 

He was prevented by several religious 
duties.” 

I hn sorry, I should have liked to see him. 
You have no hat, niece ? ” 

“ I have, uncle ; it is in my pocket.” 

‘‘ In your pocket ! And why, pray ? ” 
Because it is so ugly, uncle.” 

“ A fine reason, that ! This is the first 
time I ever heard of a young lady wearing 
her hat in her pocket ! It is not customary 
to travel without a hat, my dear. Make 
haste and put it on while I am having the 
luggage checked.” 

Bather put out of countenance by this 
rebuke, I planted my hat on my head again, 
not without having it brought home to me 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 125 


that a journey in a pocket is anything but 
liealthful for this specimen of human indus- 
try. 

Then I bade good-by to Jean and Perrine. 
Ma’m’selle/’ said Perrine, “ I could not be 
sorrier for parting from you if you were one 
of the best and handsomest cows I have ! ’’ 
Much obliged, I ’m sure 1 ’’ said I, between 
laughing and crying. “Kiss me, and good- 
by.’' 

I kissed the firm red cheeks of Perrine, 
upon which, I am much afraid, more than one 
beguiling rascal had also imprinted his kisses, 
either stealthily or noisily. 

“ Good-by, Jean.” 

“ Hope to see you soon again, ma’m’selle,” 
returned Jean, laughing stupidly, which was 
his way of manifesting strong emotion. 

A few minutes after, I was in the train, 
seated in front of my uncle, and absolutely 
scared by the bustle about the station and the 
novelty of my position. When I was a little 
at my ease I examined M. de Pavol. 

My uncle was of medium height, well-pro- 
portioned, with thick red hands not very well 
cared for, and, at first sight, did not look at 
all aristocratic. His face was ruddy, his 
forehead lofty, his nose large, and his hair 


126 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 


was cropped very close ; the eyes were small, 
penetrating, and were deeply sunken beneath 
bushy, prominent eyebrows. But it did not 
take long to discover under these externals 
the man of birth and fashion. The salient 
and most striking feature of his face was the 
mouth. Firmly and vigorously moulded, and, 
on the whole, rather handsome, although the 
under lip was a little thick, this mouth had 
an expression of shrewdness and irony, of 
mockery and sarcasm, that upset the most 
insolent and rooted them to the spot. After 
studying this mouth a person, forgot entirely 
the vulgar aspects of my uncle’s exterior, or 
rather began to see there was nothing really 
vulgar about him, and that his rustic appear- 
ance was an admirable frame, specially fitted 
for throwing that clever, delicate mouth into 
relief. 

My uncle did not speak much, and always 
slowly, but whatever he did say was generally 
sure to hit the mark. He was fond of some- 
times using expressions that were just a little 
energetic, and their effectiveness was increased 
by the quiet, deliberate way in which he 
uttered them. Although he was scarcely 
sixty, his spirits were somewhat depressed by 
physical suffering, as he was subject to fre- 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 127 

quent attacks of the gout. But, even if he no 
longer possessed his old-time keenness of rep- 
artee, his mouth, with a movement that was 
almost imperceptible, could still express the 
most delicate shades of irony, malice, raillery, 
or open derision, and I have seen people 
paralyzed by my uncle before he had uttered 
a word. 

I was, naturally, too inexperienced to 
make a very deep study of M. de Pavol all at 
once, but I observed him with the very great- 
est interest. He, too, while he was reading 
the cure’s letter, flashed an occasional scruti- 
nizing glance upon me, as if with the view of 
flnding out whether or not my countenance 
contradicted the assertions of the cure. 

^^You are looking at me very intently, 
niece,” said he. “ Would it be because, per- 
chance, you find me handsome ? ” 

Not the least bit in the world.” 

My uncle winced a little. 

If that ’s not frankness I don’t know what 
frankness is. And would you tell me why 
you are so pale ? ” 

Because I ’m half dead with fear, uncle.” 
Fear ! and of what ? ” 

We ’re going so fast — it ’s awful ! ” 

Ah, yes, I understand ; this is the first 


128 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


time you have travelled. Pluck up your 
courage ; there ’s no danger.’’ 

“ Is my cousin at Le Pavol, uncle ? ” 

“ Certainly ; and she will be very glad to 
make your acquaintance.” 

After putting a few questions to me about 
my aunt, and my life at Le Buisson, he took 
up a journal and did not speak another word 
until we reached Y — . 

Then we took our places in a landau, drawn 
by two horses, and drove to Le Pavol. My 
coarse-looking bundles were piled up in this 
elegant vehicle, and the shabby figure they 
made cut me to the quick. 

As soon as I was seated my uncle handed 
me a bag of cakes by way of refreshment, 
and plunged into another journal. 

This mode of acting at last began to nettle 
me. 

It is not in my nature to keep silent for very 
long, and, besides, I had a great number of 
questions to ask. So when the novelty of 
being whirled along in a pretty, well-padded, 
luxurious carriage began to pall upon me I 
ventured to break silence. 

Uncle,” said I, if you would not mind 
stopping reading we might talk a little.” 

I am perfectly willing, niece,” answered 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 129 

my ujicle, immediately folding his paper. I 
thought you might like to follow the train 
of your own thoughts. Well, what shall we 
discuss ? The Eastern question, political 
economy, the dressing of dolls, or the habits 
of monkeys ? ’’ 

All that has little interest for me ; and 
as to the habits of monkeys, I fancy I know 
quite as much on that subject as you do, 
uncle.” 

^Wery likely you do, I have no doubt,” 
answered M. de Pavol, astounded at my cool- 
ness. Well, then, choose your subject.” 

Say, uncle, are you not something of a 
scoundrel ? ” 

Eh ? What the devil is that you he say- 
ing, niece ? ” 

I am asking, uncle, whether you are not 
something of a miscreant or scoundrel.” 

You — , are you actually quizzing me ? ” 
cried my uncle, using a word that was any- 
thing but parliamentary. 

Don’t get angry, uncle, I am beginning a 
study of manners and customs that have far 
more interest than those of monkeys. I want 
to learn whether my aunt was right or not ; 
she insisted all men are scoundrels. Now, is 
that true ? ” 


130 MY UNCLE AND MY CUEE. 


“ But your aunt had not common sense, had 
she ? ” 

She showed considerable when she made 
up her mind to set out for another world ; but 
not on any other occasion that I know of,” I 
answered tranquilly. 

M. de Pavol regarded me with evident 
astonishment. 

^^Upon my word, niece, you surprise me! 
Your way of expressing your thoughts is 
somewhat crude, to say the least of it. So 
you and Madame de Lavalle did not get along 
very well together ? ” 

We did n’t get along at all. She was very 
disagreeable and beat me more than once. 
Ask the cure ; she turned him out of doors, 
because he took my side. And how is it, 
uncle, that you left me so long with her ? 
She was a common woman, and you did not 
like her.” 

When your parents died, Reine, my wife 
was very ill, and I felt only too well pleased 
when my sister-in-law consented to take 
charge of you. I saw you again when you 
were six, and at that time you seemed gay 
and happy. After that, faith, I nearly forgot 
all about you ! I am exceedingly sorry now, 
since you were not happy.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUEE. 131 

And you will let me stay with you always 
now, uncle ? ’’ 

“ Most certainly,” replied M. de Pavol, 
almost energetically. 

When I say always^ I mean until my 
marriage, for I intend getting married soon.” 

You intend getting married soon ? What ! 
You are hardly out of the nursery, and you 
talk of getting married ! Marriage is an 
absurd invention, and it is well you should 
know it, niece.” 

And why ? ” 

Because women are not worth a rush,” 
answered my uncle, with an air of the most 
thorough conviction. 

I fell back in my corner, quite astounded, 
and thinking my uncle’s opinion of women 
not at all flattering to my aunt De Pavol. 
When I had digested these last words of my 
uncle I resumed : 

But since I am not going to marry a 
woman it is perfectly immaterial to me 
whether women are worth a rush or not. 
My husband will have to get along with me 
as well as he can.” 

Fine logic, that. So it seems you know 
how to reason. Young girls are all wild to 
get married, that ’s a dead certainty.” 


132 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


Then my cousin has the same ideas that 
I have ? 

Yes,” answered my uncle gloomily. 

Ah, so much the better ! ” said I, rubbing 
my hands. Is my cousin tall ? ” 

Tall and beautiful,” replied M. de Pavol 
complacently; a real goddess, and the de- 
light of my eyes. But you will see her in a 
moment, for we are at the house.” 

And as he was speaking we turned into an 
avenue of gigantic elms, which led to the 
chateau. 

My cousin was waiting for us on the steps. 
She took me in her arms with the majestic 
air of a queen who is granting a boon to one 
of her subjects. 

“ Good gracious, how beautiful you are ! ” 
said I, gazing at her in amazement. 

Most assuredly we seldom come across 
perfect and unquestioned beauty, but there 
could be no discussion with regard to that of 
my cousin : it forced recognition. She was 
not always pleasing, for her features were 
haughty, and sometimes a little hard, but even 
those who admired her least were compelled 
to say, with my uncle : 

“ She is devilishly beautiful ! ” 

She had brown hair which fell low down 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 133 


over her forehead, a Grecian profile of the 
most perfect purity, a lovely complexion, blue 
eyes with dark lashes, and delicately pencilled 
eyebrows. Tall and strong, with a well-de- 
veloped bust, she would have been taken to 
be more than eighteen, but that her mouth, 
in spite of its somewhat scornful curves, — 
threatening to become more decided later on, 
— had some of those childish, indefinite 
movements that denote extreme youth. Her 
bearing and gestures were slow, rather care- 
less, though always harmonious and un- 
affected. A friend of M. de Pavol had one 
day said, laughingly, that at twenty-five she 
would resemble Juno in every feature. The 
name clung to her. 

I conceived a real passion for my splendid 
cousin in a moment, and my uncle was much 
amused at my amazement. 

Then you never saw a pretty woman 
before, niece ? 

I have never seen anything ; I have been 
buried alive in a hole.’’ 

^^Why did you not look in your glass, 
Reine ? M. de Conprat told us you were 
pretty.” 

Paul de Conprat ? ” I exclaimed. 

The very same,” answered my uncle. “ I 


134 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 


forgot to speak about him. He took refuge 
at Le Buisson during a storm, did he not ? 

I remember/’ said I, blushing. 

^^He is to lunch with us on Monday, 
Blanche, is he not?” 

Yes, father, I had a letter from the major 
to-day accepting the invitation — Why, 
Eeine, who dressed you ? ” 

Suzon, my aunt’s second self in bad taste 
and stupidity,” I answered rancorously. 

We shall remedy the poverty of your 
toilet to-morrow, niece. Only try to be a 
little more respectful to Madame de Lavalle’s 
memory. You did not like her, but she is 
dead, and let us wish peace to her soul! 
Come to dinoer; Juno will show you your 
apartments afterwards.” 

I spent a part of the night at my window, 
full of delicious musings and gazing at the 
sombre masses of the lofty trees of this Pavol, 
where I was to laugh and weep, be amused 
and saddened, and, at last, witness the ful- 
filment of my destiny. 

So happy did I feel that evening that my 
cure was no longer anything but a faint, 
almost imperceptible point in my memory. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 135 


CHAPTEE IX. 

B ut let no one conclude from this that 
my heart is light and fickle ; my forget- 
fulness was but momentary, and three days 
after my arrival at Pavol I wrote the fol- 
lowing letter to my cure : 

My dear Cur^ : I have so many things to 
say to you, so many discoveries to inform you of, 
so many secrets to impart to you, that I really 
don’t know where to commence. You will make 
no mistake in believing me when I tell you that 
the skies are finer here than at Le Buisson, the 
trees taller, the flowers fresher; that, in fact, 
everything around me is a source of pleasure. 
An uncle is a lucky invention of nature, and my 
cousin is as beautiful as a fairy. All the scold- 
ing, and lecturing, and preaching in the world, 
my dear cur6, will not prevent me from main- 
taining that if the women loved by Francis I. were 
as handsome as Blanche de Pavol the solidity of 
his judgment deserves the greatest credit. Why, 
M. le Cure, you would fall in love with her your- 
self, if you saw her. Still, I will confess to you 
that her queenly airs intimidate me a little, and 
you know I am not easily intimidated. And then 
she is so tall — and I had hoped she might be lit- 
tle ; it would have been a consolation, although I 
have now found out that my figure, small though 


136 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

it be, is supple, elegant, and symmetrical. But all 
the same, I ask you why could n’t God have added 
a few inches to my height ? What harm would it 
have done Him? You must allow, M. le Cure, 
that God is just a little provoking. 

I will not speak of my uncle, for I know you 
to be acquainted with him. But I am already 
quite sure I shall like him, and it is plain to me 
I have made a conquest of him. It is a piece of 
great good fortune, my dear cure, to have a pretty 
face, a piece of much greater good fortune than 
you ever cared to mention ; when you have it 
you can please everybody, and when I am a 
grandmother I intend telling my grandchildren 
that it was the first and most ravishing discovery 
I made on my entrance into life. But we have 
still time enough to think of that. 

Although I meet one surprise after another I 
have become perfectly accustomed to Pavol and 
the luxury that surrounds me. However, I should 
now and then utter a cry of astonishment were I 
not afraid of appearing ridiculous ; but to you, my 
dear cure, I may confess that sometimes I cannot 
believe my eyes. 

We went to V — the day before yesterday for 
the purpose of buying dresses for me, Suzon’s 
achievements in the seamstress line being simply 
awful ! Don’t go on deluding yourself, my poor 
cure ; notwithstanding your admiration for certain 
gowns, when I came here I looked like a fright, 
a perfect fright. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 137 


What a delightful place a city is ! I have been 
lost in ecstasy, struck all of a heap, in presence of 
the shops, houses, churches, streets, and what not, 
while Blanche made fun of me and told me V — 
was a wretched hole of a place. I wonder what 
she’d think of Le Buisson if she saw it, then! 
After a three hours’ consultation with the dress- 
maker and milliner, my cousin, who is very pious, 
went to confession, and left me to make some 
purchases with the maid. My uncle had given me 
money, cautioning me to lay it out in the purchase 
of things useful and practical. Just as if I did 
not know what was useful and practical ! I ran at 
once to a confectioner’s and eat my fill of little 
c^kes ; I confess humbly, my dear cure, to a pas- 
sion for little cakes. While engaged in this exer- 
cise, which you must admit to be as useful as 
pleasant, for, after all, it is a duty to support this 
body of clay, I noticed a number of pretty objects 
in the shop opposite the confectioner’s. I crossed 
over at once and bought forty-two little terra- 
cotta statuettes, — the loveliest little men you ever 
saw, — in fact, all there was for sale. This left 
me without a sou and in debt beside ; however, 
that does n’t matter, as I am rich. My cousin 
laughed heartily, but my uncle scolded. He 
insisted that reason should guide and control 
every one, great or small ; that it is beneficial at 
every period in our lives ; and that when we refuse 
its aid we are liable to commit every kind of 
folly; as, for instance, when you buy forty-two 


138 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


terra-cotta statuettes, instead of providing your- 
self with stockings and chemises. I listened with 
an appearance of humility and contrition, my dear 
cure, but during my uncle’s concluding remarks, 
which were eloquent, I assure you, my rebellious 
spirit endowed reason with an ungainly body, a 
long nose, — of the Roman type, too, — a sour, 
withered face ; and the person I created bore such 
a striking resemblance to my aunt that I took a 
thorough dislike to reason on the spot. Such was 
the result of my uncle’s oratorical display. Mean- 
while, T have my forty-two little men ; they weep, 
smile, make faces in every corner of my room, 
and I am quite satisfied. 

Yesterday evening I talked with Blanche of 
love, M. le Cure. Why have you told me it 
existed only in books and did not concern little 
girls? Ah, my cuiA, my cure! I am afraid you 
have practised on my credulity very often. We 
are going into society as soon as the first weeks 
of mourning have slipped by. My uncle believes 
me to be too young. But I cannot stay by myself 
at Pavol. If I had to, there would be only one 
thing left to do : fling myself out of the window 
or set the house on fire. 

It seems I am very likely to be a great suc- 
cess. I am pretty, and, in addition, I have a big 
dqwry. Blanche tells me a pretty face without a 
dowry has but little value ; but that both together 
form a joerfect Avhole and make up a dish of the 
rarest kind. I am, then, my dear cur6, a savory. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 139 


succulent, and dainty morsel, which will be 
coveted, pursued, and swallowed in a jiffy, if I am 
gracious enough to allow it. However, don’t be 
uneasy, I will not allow it, unless — But hush ! 

And to conclude, M. le Cure, I am very im- 
patient for the coming of Monday, only I shall 
not tell you why. On that day an event is to 
occur that sends my heart beating furiously, an 
event that makes me whirl round on my heels 
until I am quite out of breath, makes me throw 
my hat up in the air, dance, and commit a thousand 
follies. Heavens, wdiat a beautiful thing is life ! 

But nothing is perfect, for you are not here, 
and 1 miss you sadly. How much I miss you, 
my poor cure, I cannot describe. I should so like 
to be your guide through the chMeau and well- 
kept gardens, so different from Le Buisson, and 
watch you as you admired them. I should so like 
to see you enjoying the easy, luxurious life we all 
lead here ! Everything is arranged in the most 
perfect order, even to the slightest detail, and I 
really feel as if I were in Paradise. Not a 
moment passes that does not supply some fresh 
occasion of pleasure or admiration, and not a 
moment passes that I do not wish you here to 
share them with me. I look around for you, I 
call for you, but the echoes of this beautiful park 
are dumb. 

Adieu, my dear, good cure ; I do not send you a 
kiss, because a cuiA is not to be kissed, though 
why, I cannot for the life of me tell, but I send 


140 MY UNCLE AND MY CUK^:. 


you the expression of the love and affection for 
you that fill my heart. I worship you, M. le Cure. 

Reine. 

It is quite certain that I grew at once 
familiar with the atmosphere of elegance and 
luxury into which I had been so abruptly 
translated. It is equally certain that although 
Blanche was very friendly, and insisted we 
should address each other as “ thou,’’ she did 
frighten me during the days immediately fol- 
lowing my arrival at Pavol. Her goddess- 
like bearing, her somewhat haughty demeanor, 
the idea that she was far more experienced 
than I, all this had its effect and prevented 
me from feeling quite at my ease with her. 
This impression, however, lasted about as 
long as does the hoar-frost when exposed to 
the rays of an April sun, and a conversation 
I had with her on Sunday morning had the 
effect of entirely dispelling the superiority 
which I had ascribed to her. 

I was still in bed, half dozing, blissfully 
cuddling myself up in the bedclothes, opening 
an eye now and then and gazing with ecstasy 
on my cheery, comfortable room, my little 
men in terra-cotta, and the trees I could see 
through the open window. Blanche entered 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUEE. 141 

in a long, trailing morning robe, her hair 
streaming over her shoulders, and a look of 
anxiety on her face. 

^^Reine,” said she, sitting down at the foot 
of my bed, “ I came in to talk with you.’’ 

‘^As beautiful as the most beautiful of 
Walter Scott’s heroines !” I said admiringly. 

^^Reine,” she observed, sitting at the foot 
of the bed, I want to have a chat with you.” 

Nothing could please me better. But I 
am only half awake, and my ideas are rather 
in a tangle.” 

Even though the point I came to talk 
about is marriage ? ” returned Blanche, who 
was already aware of my opinion on this grave 
question. 

Marriage ? Then I ’m very much awake, 
I can tell you ! ” suddenly sitting up. 

You would like to marry, Reine ? ” 

“ Like to marry ? What a question ! I 
should say so ! — and that, too, as early as 
possible. I simply adore men ; I am far fonder 
of them than I am of women, unless the women 
liappen to be as lovely as you are.” 

It is not proper to talk of adoring men,” 
said Blanche severely. 

And why ? ” 

I do not know very well why, but I 


142 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


assure you it is not the right thing for a 
young girl to do.” 

So much the worse ! Still, that is my 
opinion,” I answered, covering myself up in 
the blankets again. 

‘‘ Child ! ” retorted Blanche, regarding me 
with a sort of compassionate air I thought 
highly offensive, I have come to talk with 
you about my father.” 

What has happened ? ” 

^^Well, it is just this. Like yourself, I 
want to be married some day or other ; there 
have been several suitors for my hand, and 
my father has rejected them all. I did not 
mind particularly, for I am in no hurry. I 
will wait until I am twenty ; still, I should 
like to know whether he intends always 
opposing my marriage.” 

(( Why don’t you ask him ? ” 

“ Ah, that is the difficulty ! ” replied Blanche, 
somewhat embarrassed. I confess I stand in 
some fear or, at least, awe of my father.” 

Astonished beyond measure, I rose on my 
elbow, brushing aside the hair that covered 
my face, so as to get a better view of my 
cousin. On that very moment she came 
tumbling down from the Olympian clouds 
upon which I had enthroned her, and, beneath 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 143 

the outward mask of Juno I discovered a 
young girl that could never, never frighten 
me again. 

Well, I should like t^ see the person that 
would overawe me ! ’’ I cried, hurling my 
pillow into the middle of the room. 

Blanche looked at me, open-mouthed. 

Why, what are you doing, Beine ? ’’ 

Oh, it ’s a way I have ! When I was at 
Le Buisson I used to fling the pillows in all 
directions, it did n’t matter where, so long as 
it infuriated Suzon, and that little amusement 
of mine used to drive her stark, staring mad.” 

As Suzon is not here, perhaps it would 
be as well to take my advice and give up the 
habit. But to return to what we were saying, 
do you feel you have sufficient courage to open 
a discussion on marriage with your uncle ? 
He is never done inveighing against it.” 

Why, of course ! If there is anything I 
am great upon it is arguing, and that you ’ll 
soon see ! I ’ll attack my uncle immediately. 
There will be no dallying about the matter 
on my part, you take my word ! ” 

During dinner I let my cousin know by an 
expressive pantomime that I was ready for 
the struggle. My uncle, who scented danger, 
watched us from under his bushy eyebrows. 


144 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


and Blanche, already alarmed, made a sign to 
me to keep quiet. But I snapped my fingers, 
gave a loud cough, and jumped resolutely 
into the arena. 

Uncle, can a person have children with- 
out being married ? ’’ 

certainly not,’’ replied my uncle, ap- 
parently much amused at the question. 

Would it be a misfortune if the human 
race disappeared ? ” 

Hum ! that is a serious question. The 
philanthropists would answer, yes, and the 
misanthropists, no.” 

But I want your opinion, uncle.” 

It is a point I have n’t given much consid- 
eration to. Still, as whatever Providence 
does is well done, I vote for the perpetuation 
of the human species.” 

Then, uncle, since you condemn marriage, 
you run counter to your own opinion.” 

‘‘ Indeed ! You don’t say so ! ” 

As it is not possible to have children with- 
out marriage, and as you vote for the propa- 
gation of the human race, it follows that you 
ought to be in favor of everybody marry- 
ing. ” 

Ventre Saint- Gris ! exclaimed M. de 
Pavol, with such a cynical curl of the lip 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 145 

that Blanche became crimson ; that is what 
I call reasoning ! And pray might I ask, 
niece, what is marriage according to your 
ideas ? ’’ 

“ Marriage ? ’’ said I enthusiastically ; why, 
it is one of the finest institutions that exist 
on earth ! An eternal union between those 
who love ! They sing and dance and kiss 
each other’s hand — Oh, it is heavenly ! ” 

“ They kiss each other’s hand, do they ? 
And why the hand, niece ? ” 

Because it is — well, it is an idea I have,” 
I answered, smiling enigmatically as I thought 
of a certain incident in the past. 

Marriage is an institution which delivers 
up a victim to the executioner,” growled my 
uncle. 

Oh ! ! ! ” 

Juno and I protested with the greatest 
energy. 

“ And which of them is the victim, father ? ” 

“ The man, 'parhleu ! ” 

The worse for the men, then,” I answered 
resolutely. Let them defend themselves ! 
As for myself, I am ready to qualify for an 
executioner at a moment’s notice.” 

What are you driving at now, young 
ladies ? 


146 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


“ At this, uncle : Blanche and I are devoted 
partisans of marriage, and have determined 
on putting our theories into practice, and 
that, too, as early as possible.” 

Heine ! ” cried my cousin, astounded at 
my audacity. 

“ I am just telling nothing but the truth, 
Blanche ; only you are willing to wait, and I 
have no such patience.” 

^^You don’t say so ! And you don’t hap- 
pen to have any particular young man in your 
eye, eh ? ” inquired my uncle. 

How could she ? ” said Blanche, laughing ; 
she does not know a soul ! ” 

Ever since I came to Pavol I had given a 
good deal of thought to my love for M. de 
Conprat, and had often asked myself if I 
ought to confide this inmost secret of my 
heart to my cousin. But, after frequently 
turning the matter over in my mind, I came 
to the conclusion that under present circum- 
stances I had better break with all my prin- 
ciples, and, like the Arabs, act on the maxim 
that silence is golden. Still, this assertion of 
Blanche put me on my mettle, and, in spite of 
all my resolutions, I almost felt like revealing 
my secret ; I managed, however, to get the 
better of the temptation. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUR^). 147 

• 

In any case I am sure to fall in love some 
day or other, for life without love is impos- 
sible.” 

Really ! May I ask where you got those 
ideas, Reine ? ” 

“ Why, uncle, love is life. You just only 
look at the heroines of Sir Walter Scott : how 
they love and are loved in return ! ” 

Eh ! So the cure allowed you to read 
novels, it seems, and gave you lectures on love 
also ? ” 

My poor cure ! Did n’t I drive the dear 
man wild on account of that very thing! 
Why, uncle, he would n’t let me glance at a 
single novel, and took care even to carry off 
the key of the library, but I broke a pane 
and got in through the window.” 

“Upon my word, you promise well! So, 
then, you have set out on a wild-goose chase, 
and are indulging in all sorts of foolish fan- 
cies about love ? ” 

“ I never indulge in foolish fancies, and, 
above all, on that point ; I understand what 
I ’in talking about perfectly.” 

“ The devil you do ! ” said my uncle, laugh- 
ing. “But you told me a moment ago you 
were not in love with any one ! ” 

“ That is quite certain ! ” I answered 


148 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

warmly, somewhat confused at my blunder. 
‘^But don’t you think, uncle, that reflection 
can make up for experience ? ” 

Oh, I have n’t the least doubt of it, espe- 
cially on the subject we have been discussing. 
Besides, any one who looks at you can see you 
have a finely organized brain.” 

^^No, uncle, I am simply logical ; that is all 
there is to it. By the way, does a woman 
ever love any man except her husband ? ” 

No, never,” answered M. de Pavol, with a 
smile. 

That clinches the matter ! Since a person 
never loves any one except her husband, and 
since no one can live without love, the con- 
clusion is self-evident : every one is bound to 
get married.” 

“ Granted, but not before reaching the age 
of twenty-one, young ladies.” 

I am sure I don’t care,” answered 
Blanche. 

Yes, but I do, and I have n’t the slightest 
notion of waiting five years.” 

You may make up your mind, Beine, to 
wait five years, unless something extraordi- 
nary happens.” 

What do you mean by something extraor- 
dinary, uncle ? ” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 149 

The appearance of a suitor so unobjection- 
able in every respect that it would be folly to 
refuse him.” 

I was so pleased with this modification in 
my uncle’s programme that I had to rise and 
execute a few turns on my heel. 

Then I have the game in my own hands ! ” 
I cried, making for the door. 

Soon after, I was safe in my room, and 
Juno came sailing in with an air of great 
majesty. 

What a bold girl you are, Eeine ! ” 

A bold girl ? So that ’s the way you thank 
me for doing what you asked me ! ” 

Yes, but you have such a blunt way of 
putting things ! ” 

“ That ’s my way. I rather like bluntness.” 

Besides, it really looked as if you took a 
pleasure in worrying my father.” 

‘‘1 shouldn’t worry him for the world; I 
like him, with that quizzical face of his ; 
in fact, I am passionately in love with him 
already. But that is not the question, 
Blanche ; it is he who worries, maddens us 
by his flings at marriage, and, at all events, 
you now know what you wanted to know.” 

Certainly,” said Blanche dreamily. 

M. de Pavol was soon to learn, at his own 


160 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 

expense, that, if women are bad, little girls 
are worse, and are capable of trampling with 
callous insensibility on the ideas of a father 
and an uncle. 


CHAPTER X. 

HEX I rose on Monday morning I felt 



T T exceedingly happy. I had dreamed of 
Paul de Conprat during the night, and I 
uttered a cry of joy on awaking. 

The delight of being gowned in a fashion 
that transcended my highest anticipations 
added to my excitement, an(J, after I was 
dressed, I contemplated my image in the 
glass with protracted and silent admiration. 
Then I whirled ecstatically out of my cham- 
ber and into the corridor, falling plump into 
the arms of my uncle and narrowly escaping 
flinging him on the floor. 

Why, where are you running to, niece ? ’’ 
Going to all the rooms, uncle, to look at 
myself in all the glasses. Don’t I look sweet ? ’’ 
You certainly look passable, I admit.” 
And my shape — does not this gown set it 
oft to perfection ? ” 

You are charming ! ” answered M. de 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 151 

Pavol, who seemed delighted at my happiness 
and kissed me on both cheeks. 

Ah, yes, uncle ! I am indeed happy ! It 
somehow comes into my noddle — as Perrine 
would say — that the unobjectionable one will 
heave in sight before long.’’ 

Thereupon I took to my heels and whipped 
into Juno’s room like a thunderbolt. 

‘^Look ! ” I cried, spinning round so swiftly 
that all my cousin could see was a confused 
whirlwind of skirts and petticoats. 

“ Do be quiet a moment. Peine,” said my 
cousin, with hqr usual calmness. ‘‘ Will you 
never learn to exercise a little self-control ? 
Yes, your gown fits you well.” 

And see what a little foot I ’ve got ! ” I 
went on, advancing my leg. 

“ What a born coquette you are ! ” cried 
Blanche, laughing. ^^Who could ever have 
imagined a little country chit like you reach- 
ing such a degree of coquetry so soon ? ” 

It ’s nothing to what you ’ll see me reach 
before long,” I answered gravely. “ I have 
found out, you see, that coquetry is a duty, 
one of the serious duties of life.” 

It is the first time I ever heard so. And 
pray who taught you that ? Surely not your 
cure ? ” 


152 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

no; a person who understood all 
about it. Are any others coming to lunch 
besides the De Conprats, Blanche ? ’’ 

^^Yes; the cure and two of my father’s 
friends.” 

We waited for our guests in the drawing- 
room, and my uncle entered after a few 
moments, accompanied by Major de Conprat, 
to whom he presented me. 

And oh, what a fine, noble face was that 
of the major ! Hair and mustache as white 
as the driven snow, and eyes as limpid as 
a child’s ; such kindness and benevolence 
beamed from him that I thought at once of 
my cure, although there was not any real 
resemblance between them. I felt drawn to 
him immediately, and saw the attraction was 
mutual. 

So this is the little relative I have heard 
so much of,” said he, taking my hands. 

Permit me to kiss you, my child ; I was 
your father’s friend.” 

I let him kiss me without any reluctance, 
though whispering to myself that I should have 
been somewhat better pleased if his son had 
been in his place during this delicate operation. 

At last he came in ! — and I would have 
exchanged my entire dowry and my pretty 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 153 

gown into the bargain for the right to run up 
and throw my arms around his neck. 

He shook hands with my cousin, but bowed 
so ceremoniously to me that I felt quite crest- 
fallen. 

“ Shake hands with me also,” said I ; you 
are quite well aware that we are acquainted.’’ 

I was awaiting your good pleasure, 
mademoiselle.” 

‘‘ What nonsense ! ” 

‘‘ E-eine, Eeine ! ” said my uncle sharply. 

A wild-flower, in some degree,” said the 
major, with a friendly glance at me, “ but a 
very pretty flower, in any case ! ” 

These words were not successful in banish- 
ing a certain irritation I experienced without 
exactly knowing its cause, and, for a time, I 
remained silent in my corner, giving all my 
attention to M. de Conprat, who was chatting 
gayly with Blanche. 

Ah, how I liked him ! and how fast my 
heart went when I recognized again that 
honest laugh and the white teeth and the 
candid eyes of which I had dreamed so often 
in my frightful old home ! And my aunt, 
my cure, Suzon, the damp garden, the cherry 
tree he had climbed — all flitted across my 
memory like fugitive shadows. 


154 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


But it was not long before I began to join 
in the conversation, and by the time we en- 
tered the dining-room I had partially recov- 
ered my good humor. 

My seat was between the cure and M. de 
Conprat, and I immediately attacked the 
latter. 

“ Why did you never return to Le Buis- 
son ? ” I said. 

^‘1 haven’t been always my own master, 
cousin.” 

“ Were you at least sorry you could n’t ? ” 
Extremely, I assure you.” 

‘‘ Then, why did you not shake hands with 
me when you entered ? ” 

“ But, mademoiselle, it was for you to do 
that, according to all the rules of etiquette.” 

Etiquette indeed ! Etiquette did n’t 
trouble you much when we were yonder ! ” 
The situation was rather peculiar. You 
see we were n’t in society, far from it ! ” he 
answered, with a smile. 

“ And does being in society hinder a per- 
son from being friendly ? ” 

Well, not exactly ; only there are certain 
social laws that sometimes force us to curb 
our friendly impulses.” 

How stupid ! ” I said curtly. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 155 


But the explanation was, on the whole, sat- 
isfactory, and I was again in high spirits. 
Still, after talking with him awhile I saw he 
did not attach as much importance as I did 
to the words he had said to me at Le Buis- 
son. But I was so happy at being able to 
look at him ^nd converse with him that, for 
the moment, this little disappointment passed 
off without affecting my confidence in the 
future. 

M. de Conprat informed us there would 
be several balls during the month of October. 

I am very glad of the news,” answered 
Juno. 

You must teach me to dance, Blanche,” 
I said, jumping up from my chair. 

What if you let me be your professor ? ” 
cried Paul de Conprat. 

Paul is the paragon of waltzers,” said the 
major; all the women are wild to waltz 
with him.” 

And besides, he is so charming ! ” I an- 
swered warmly. 

The major and his son laughed; the cure 
and my uncle’s two friends shook their heads, 
smiling paternally. But M. de Pavol looked 
highly displeased, and my cousin raised her 
eyebrows with a movement peculiar to her 


156 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

when she felt annoyed, a movement so scorn- 
ful at the present moment that I became 
painfully conscious I must have said some- 
thing silly. 

After luncheon we rambled through the 
woods. I had brightened up again and was 
chattering away incessantly, amusing my- 
self by mimicking the manners and accent of 
one of our guests, whose ludicrous oddities 
had struck me. 

Eeine, you are really very unladylike ! ” 
said Blanche. 

‘^But he does talk this way,” said I, pinch- 
ing my nose the better to imitate the voice of 
my victim. 

And M. de Conprat laughed. Juno assumed 
an imposing air of dignified reproof, which 
did not disturb me the least bit in the world. 

There came a moment when he and I were 
together alone, my cousin having walked 
away from us unconcernedly. I perceived 
that he looked after her very often. 

“ Is she not beautiful ? ” said I, in the in- 
nocence of my heart. 

Beautiful, exceedingly beautiful ! ” he 
answered, in a repressed tone that startled me. 

A doubt, a presentiment, flashed across my 
mind; but at sixteen, impressions of this 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 157 

nature are fugitive, vanishing like the butter- 
flies that flit around us, and, up to the mo- 
ment our guests were taking leave of M. de 
Pavol, I was in a state of exuberant gayety. 

After they had all left, my uncle retired to 
the library and summoned me before him. 

Reine, you have made yourself ridicu- 
lous ! ’’ 

^^But how, uncle ? ” 

To tell a young man he was charming ! 
Did any one ever hear of the like ! ’’ 

But since I believed it to be true, uncle ? 

The greater reason to keep it to yourself.’’ 

What ? ” I returned, quite bewildered. 

Should I have said I thought him the reverse 
of charming ? ” 

^^You should not have said one thing or 
the other. You may have whatever opinions 
you like, but you need n’t take the whole 
world into your confldence.” 

Still, it is very natural to say what you 
think, uncle ! ” 

Not in society, niece. Half of the time 
we must say what we don’t think and hide 
what we do.” 

What a frightful maxim ! ” I exclaimed, 
horrified. I shall never be able to practise 
it.” 


158 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 


You ’ll get there in time ; but meanwhile 
you must obey the laws of etiquette.” 

Oh, etiquette, etiquette ! It ’s always 
turning up ! ” I answered, leaving the room 
in anything but a good temper. 

That evening, as I was dreaming at my 
window, — a habit I had fallen into of late, — 
my dreams were disturbed by a morbid 
anxiety, the nature of which I could not very 
well define. I mused on the incidents of a 
day that had been looked forward to so im- 
patiently, and I could not get rid of the im- 
pression that things had not turned out as I 
expected. What had I hoped for ? I did 
not know, but I harangued myself in a long 
discourse, the object of which was to prove 
that M. de Con prat was in love with me. The 
peroration, however, ended in tears, and this 
was, surely, a bad omen. 

Nevertheless, my uneasiness vanished the 
next morning entirely. In the afternoon I 
received a long letter from my cure ; it was 
full of good advice, and concluded as follows : 

^^Your letter, my dear child, has been a 
great consolation and a great joy to me in my 
loneliness. Do not grow tired of writing to 
me, I entreat you. I do not know what is to 
become of me without you, and I do not dare 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 159 


to go to Le Buisson for fear of crying like a 
child. I am ashamed of my selfishness, 
though, for you are happy ; but, as the Script- 
ure says, the flesh is weak, and I have not 
yet been able to find consolation in my pres- 
bytery, my duties and prayers. 

“ Adieu, my dear little child ; my last 
words to you will be : Distrust the imagina- 
tion.’’ 

And this phrase produced an unpleasant 
impression on my disturbed mind. 


CHAPTER XI. 

I WAS now three weeks at Pavol, and my 
uncle maintained I had improved so 
much in my looks that the cure, should he 
meet me, would never be able to recognize me. 
He compared me to some hardy plant that, 
owing to its own intrinsic force, thrives in a 
barren soil, but that attains the full develop- 
ment of its beauty, in a sudden and marvellous 
manner, when transplanted to a region more 
in harmony with its nature. 

A look in my glass was sufficient to con- 
vince me that this was true, that my brown 
eyes had a new lustre and my lips were fresher 


160 MY UNCLE AND MY CUEE. 


than ever before ; my rather southern com- 
plexion, too, had assumed a delicate rose tint 
that was enough of itself to put me in high 
good humor. 

However, a few days after the lunch of 
which I have spoken I made a discovery 
that proved decisively how grossly I was 
misled by my simplicity in thinking M. de 
Conprat to be in love with me. But I have 
never been a, pessimist, and I made all haste 
to provide myself with arguments that would 
be likely to affoijd me consolation. I said to 
myself that all h^rts were not made alike, 
and that while some surrender in a minute, 
there are others which » claim the right of 
reflecting and observing before taking fire ; 
that though M. de Conprat might not love me 
now, he must love me some day or other, 
seeing that our tastes and proclivities were 
in such perfect unison. Consequently, serious 
as was my disappointment, my tranquillity 
was not greatly troubled for several days. I 
brightened up more and more amid surround- 
ings so congenial to my nature, and basked in 
the light of my happiness like a lizard in the 
sunshine. 

My cousin was a fine musician, and the 
major, who adored music, came to Pavol 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 161 


several times a week, always accompanied by 
his son, who was warmly welcomed on other 
occasions as well, both on account of the 
intimacy existing between him and Blanche 
since childhood and . the ties of relationship 
that united the familes. My uncle regarded 
this intimacy with satisfaction, for, in spitt^ 
of his paradoxes on marriage, he was extremely 
desirous of an alliance between his daughter 
and M. de Conprat, who, in his eyes, was 
clearly one of the unobjectionables, and the 
major was in hearty sympathy with the 
project. 

I learned this later on, and found out a 
good many other things besides, which I 
might have easily discovered sooner had I 
been possessed of a little more experience. 

As a general rule these gentlemen arrived 
in time for lunch. That Paul, whose appetite 
we are already acquainted with, did full justice 
to the repast may be taken for granted. He 
followed it up with a substantial collation 
about three. Then, if we had no other visitors, 
Blanche gave me a dancing lesson, during 
which he played a waltz of his own composition 
with great spirit. Sometimes he acted as 
professor himself, in which case Blanche took 
his place at the piano, and I whirled round in 


162 MY UNCLE AND MY CUBE. 


the arms of M. de Conprat, fairly speechless 
with delight, the major and my uncle look- 
ing on with considerable enjoyment. Oh, 
what charming days those were ! 

We formed no plan in which he was not 
included. His stimulating gayety, kindly 
temper, and a talent for organization and for 
every sort of grotesque inventions which be 
possessed to perfection, rendered him a charm- 
ing companion, brightened our lives, and made 
me more in love with him than ever. At once 
clever, active, and obliging, he was equally 
able and willing to do everything. When 
we broke a watch, a bracelet, or any object 
whatever, Blanche and I used to say : 

If Paul comes to-day he will repair it.’^ 

He was very fond of painting, and often 
brought his pictures to show us. It was the 
only point upon which he and I could not 
agree. I had an inveterate dislike for the 
arts, for music especially, because that odious 
thing etiquette will not allow people to stuff 
their ears, while no one can force you to look 
at a picture or hinder you from turning your 
back on it. And yet, for all that, I could 
have gladly listened to M. de ConpraPs dance 
tunes as long as he chose to play them ; but it 
was he I loved in the music, and not the music 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE, 163 

itself. I refer to this feeling at the present 
moment because I analyzed it on a certain 
day, and this analysis led to a frightful 
discovery. 

Why do you paint trees, cousin ?” 1 said. 
The very ugliest trees are better than those 
green daubs you put on your canvas.’’ 

So that is your idea of art, my youthful 
cousin ? ” 

Do you not believe that Juno is a thousand 
times more beautiful than her portrait ? ” 

I do, most assuredly ! ” 

‘^And these little blue flowers you are 
putting on the trees, what kind are they ? ” 

“ Why, that is a corner of the sky, cousin ! ” 
I turned round on my heel and cried 
pathetically : 

0 skies, and trees, and nature, how many 
crimes are committed in your names ! ” 

My uncle had a large number of friends 
in V — . He was related to most of the 
families in the country, and kept open house. 
It happened very seldom that we did not 
have guests at luncheon or. dinner. I had 
thus a flue opportunity to become acquainted 
with the customs of society and to learn, as 
the cure had advised, to reduce my feelings 
to equilibrium. But I must say my attempts 


164 MY UNCLE AND MY CURi). 


at reform in this respect were a failure, 
and I seldom hesitated to give free rein to 
thoughts and impressions that were often as 
absurd as they were impudent. 

My uncle and Juno, who were very rigid 
on the subject of social conventions, used to 
upbraid me in good set terms ; it all went 
in at one ear and out at the other. With a 
perseverance that must have been really dis- 
tressing, I never lost an opportunity of com- 
mitting a blunder or of saying something 
silly. 

^Wou were very discourteous to Madame 
A — , Eeine.’’ 

In what way, 0 most hypocritical of 
Junos ? I simply let her know I didn’t like 
her, that was all.” 

It was in that very thing you showed 
your lack of decorum, niece.” 

But she is so ugly, uncle ! And then, 
you see, I cannot take to women ; they are 
sarcastic and malicious, and examine you 
from head to foot, as if you were some queer 
animal.” 

^‘How can you reflect on them for being 
sarcastic, you who spend your whole time in 
finding out the ridiculous points in people 
and mimicking them ? ” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 165 

Yes, but I am pretty and may do as I 
like. So M. C — told me the other day.’’ 

“ I do not quite see the inference. Be- 
sides, do you think men don’t examine you 
from head to foot also ? ” 

Yes, but it is because they admire me, 
while the women are on the look-out for flaws 
all the time, and when they don’t discover 
them the}'^ invent them. Oh, I know what 
I ’m talking about ; I have already noticed a 
multitude of things.” 

^^That is easily seen, niece, but try to 
notice, too, that good breeding is a quality 
of some value.” 

When our guests of the masculine gender 
were young they paid their court to Blanche 
and me, and I amused myself to the top of 
my bent ; but when they were old — my 
stars, but what a headache I used to get 
from their politics ! Ah, how they and their 
politics did weary me ! 

These worthy folk always arrived in a state 
of great excitement over some misdeeds of 
the government ; they would talk discreetly 
enough until some fiery Bonapartist cried 
that he should like to shoot all the Eepub- 
licans in the country in order to strike them 
with terror. The childishness of the remark 


166 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


would probably raise a laugh, but this imagi- 
nary massacre was also sure to be the signal 
for every sort of rigmarole and extravagance. 
We all rushed head-foremost into politics, 
and kept in the thick of them until the end 
of the repast. All were agreed in expressing 
their detestation of the Eepublic and Kepub- 
licans; but when each guest proceeded to 
pull out of his pocket a little government of 
his own, which he was always careful to 
carry round with him, the rest hurled furious 
glances at him and grew as red as tomatoes. 
The Legitimist draped himself in the dignity 
of his traditions, his veneration and reverence 
for the past, and scorned the Imperialist as a 
revolutionist; the latter, in his heart, re- 
garded the Legitimist as an idiot, but, as 
politeness would not allow him to express 
his opinion, he made up for his enforced 
self-restraint by shouting like a madman. 
Then they fell anew on the Kepublicans, over- 
whelmed them with invectives, transported, 
shot, guillotined them, made mince-meat of 
them; in fact, Bonapartists and Legitimists 
combined, out of a common hatred, to sweep 
these unfortunate bipeds off the face of the 
earth. They declaimed passionately, gesticu- 
lated, saved the country, and their faces grew 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 167 

as red as scarlet — all of whichj alas ! did 
not hinder things from jogging along in their 
appointed course. 

In the middle of these incoherent ravings, 
my uncle would, from time to time, throw 
out some remark, wise or witty as the case 
might need, calculated to raise the discussion 
to a higher level than that of personal inter- 
ests and individual Sympathies. Though by 
no means a Legitimist, and indeed without 
any fixed opinions whatever, he was not the 
less sure on that account that for nearly a 
century France has been groping her way 
blindly, and that, as such a situation is not 
natural for her, she must eventually lose her 
balance and tumble over a precipice. 

He used to laugh at the shabby tricks and 
follies of the different parties, but he was 
often in a despondent mood, generally mani- 
fested by the utterance of some brighter wit- 
ticism than usual. I never saw him in a 
passion. He kept his serenity in the midst 
of the contradictory bellowings of his guests, 
sure of having his opinion taken into account 
at the upshot, for he was judicious and far- 
sighted. However, his dislikes were keen, 
and he detested the Eepublicans. Still, he 
was by no means one-sided or fanatical ; he 


168 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

would have accepted a republic did he believe 
a republic possible, and thought highly of the 
honesty of certain men who were struggling 
in all sincerity for a Utopia. 

I have sometimes heard him call our rulers 
battledore players, and compare the laws the 
Chambers were daily sending back and forth 
to shuttlecocks which gaping Frenchmen look 
up at as they spin round over their heads with 
an appearance of innocence until at last they 
fall on the bridges of their respectable noses, 
flattening them with a vengeance. And from 
these observations I deduced certain little 
principles for my own guidance that shall be 
mentioned in the proper time and place. 

M. de Pavol was fond of conversation and 
even of argument. Though he spoke little, 
he was an interested and attentive listener. 
Under a rustic exterior he concealed an exten- 
sive knowledge of many subjects, a sure, re- 
fined, and elevated taste, regulated by sound 
reason and common sense. He was neither a 
saint nor a bigot. 

Like most men, he had, I presume, his 
weaknesses and failings. But he believed in 
God, in the soul, and in virtue ; and he did not 
regard scepticism or a fondness for scoffing 
and sneering as marks of virility and intelli- 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 169 


gence. He rather liked to listen to material- 
ists and free-thinkers when they unfolded 
their systems, but the expression of his lips 
was eloquent as to his sentiments, while he 
gazed on the speaker from beneath bushy 
eyebrows that almost concealed his eyes ; then 
he would answer slowly, and with the great- 
est calmness : 

“ Morbleu ! but yon do arouse my admira- 
tion, monsieur. Why, yon have really suc- 
ceeded in attaining the humility preached by 
the Grospel ! I am ashamed that I am unable 
to walk in your footsteps, but my confounded 
pride is so enormous that I fear it will never 
let me consider myself on a level with the 
caterpillar that crawls at my feet or the pig 
that wallows in my back yard.” 

He was always at war with the municipal 
council of his commune, and was not at all 
partial to the people of the village, for he in- 
sisted that the peasant is the most rascally 
knave in creation. Accordingly, though he 
was esteemed and respected, he was not 
liked. Yet he was exceedingly liberal in his 
charities and did many acts of kindness when- 
ever an opportunity was afforded him, but he 
never allowed himself to be duped by the low 
cunning and trickery of our honest farmers. 


170 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


In a word, tliongli my uncle had not em- 
braced any profession, though he was neither 
a lawyer, nor a doctor, nor an engineer, though 
he was not even a minister, he did his work 
in the world by trying to preserve sound, 
healthy traditions, by respecting whatever is 
worthy of respect, by refusing to give way to 
the insensate delusions of the time, and by 
influencing certain minds in the direction of 
righteousness and common sense. I was very 
fond of him, and if he had never talked politics 
I should have believed him faultless. It was 
very easy getting along with him in private life. 
He fairly worshipped his daughter and rapidly 
gave proofs of great affection for myself. 

What frightful things governments are ! 
said I to M. de Conprat. They ought to 
be suppressed, every one of them ! Then, at 
least, we should hear no more of politics. 
There are two things I should like to see go : 
the piano and politics.’’ 

Upon my faith, I do not know but I agree 
with you,” he answered, with a laugh. 

Ah, you do not like the piano ? Still, you 
listen to Blanche with pleasure ; at least, you 
look as if you did.” 

“ Yes ; but then, my cousin Blanche has real 
talent.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 171 

This explanation produced within me some- 
thing of that cramping sensation we experi- 
ence when mosquitoes buzz around us during 
our slumbers : they worry us without en- 
tirely breaking our rest. Clearly the reason 
he assigned was by no means plausible, be- 
cause, for all Juno’s talent, I, who was as 
little partial to the piano as he said he was, 
felt a temptation to scream or run away 
whenever she executed a sonata of Beethoven 
or Mozart — two men, by the way, who can 
well boast of having tired people to death. 
How their wives must have suffered ! It 
breaks my heart to think of it. 

Well, in the midst of a life so agreeable, 
with its hopes and its little annoyances which 
vanished before a kind word or were forgotten 
in the distractions to which I had been unac- 
customed, the time passed quickly, and we soon 
found ourselves at the end of September ; and 
my uncle, with the dismal air of a criminal 
going to the scaffold, prepared to take us to 
the parties spoken of by M. de Conprat. 


172 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


CHAPTER XII. 

I T is hardly necessary for me to state that 
my critical proclivities were suspended 
during my first ball. The only memories I 
retain of that night are an intoxicating de- 
light and the number of silly things I must 
have said, for I was hauled over the coals on 
account of them the next day. 

Now and then Juno tapped me on the arm 
with her fan and whispered that I was behav- 
ing ridiculously. But she might as well have 
been talking to the wind, and I flew away in 
my partner’s arms, thinking that if waltzing 
is not permitted in heaven it is scarcely worth 
while going there. 

Sometimes my cavalier believed it neces- 
sary to engage me in conversation. 

You have not lived in this country long, 
mademoiselle ? ” 

Xo, monsieur ; only about six weeks.” 
Where did you reside before coming to 
Pavol ? ” 

At Le Buisson, a frightful country, with 
a frightful aunt who is dead, God be 
thanked ! ” 

^^In any case, your name is pretty well 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 173 


known, mademoiselle ; there was a Chevalier 
de Lavalle shut up in Mont Saint-Michel, in 
1423 .’^ 

Dear me ! And what was he doing 
there ? 

Why, he was defending the Mount when 
it was attacked by the English.” 

When he might have been dancing ! What 
a booby he must have been ! ” 

And is that the way you value your an- 
cestors and their heroism, mademoiselle ? ” 

“ My ancestors ? I have never given them 
a thought. As for heroism, I don’t care a 
straw for it.” 

^^Why, what has this poor heroism done 
to you ? ” 

^^The Komans were heroes, as it seems, 
and I detest the Eomans. But let us waltz 
instead of chattering.” 

And we whirled round until my partner 
was quite done up. 

My happiness reached its climax when, in 
this brilliantly lighted hall, under the eyes of 
women in their gorgeous evening costumes, 
in the midst of that fashionable world to 
which I was such a stranger only a short 
while before, I found myself waltzing with 
M. de Conprat. He danced better than any 


174 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

other person in the room, that was a dead 
certainty. Although he was so tall and I 
was so extremely little, his pretty blonde 
mustache, which was pointed at the ends, 
now and then grazed my cheek, and I had 
some little temptations I do not care men- 
tioning, for fear of scandalizing my neighbor. 

Fairly intoxicated with joy, as well as with 
the compliments that buzzed around me, I 
said many silly things, some of them too 
silly to be even imagined. But I made a 
conquest of all the young men and reduced 
all the young girls to despair. 

The german worked me up to the highest 
pitch of enthusiasm, and when my uncle, 
who was looking like a martyr in his corner, 
made us a sign that it was time to leave, I 
cried from the opposite end of the hall : 

Uncle, you will carry me off only at the 
point of the bayonet ! ’’ 

But I was compelled to go, even without 
the employment of bayonets being rendered 
necessary, and I followed Juno, who, beauti- 
ful and dignified as ever, obeyed her father 
• and paid not the slightest heed to my pro- 
tests. 

As soon as I entered my room I undressed 
calmly enough ; however, when I had put on 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 175 


my night-gown and was on the point of get- 
ting into bed, a sudden and irresistible fancy 
took hold of me. I seized my bolster and 
waltzed round with it, singing at the top of 
my voice. 

Juno, whose room was not far from mine, 
came in, looking somewhat alarmed. 

“ Why, what are you doing, Eeine ? ’’ 

“ You see — waltzing.” 

Good gracious, what a child you are ! ” 
^^My dear, if men and women had any 
sense they would waltz day and night.” 

Come, now, Eeine, it is getting cold and 
you may catch a chill if you are not careful. 
Do get into bed, please.” 

I threw my bolster into a corner and slipped 
under the sheets. Blanche sat at the foot of 
the bed and improvised a harangue. She en- 
deavored to prove that in all our actions calm- 
ness should be the guiding principle, that 
everything ought to be done in the proper 
place and in the proper season, that, when all 
was said and done, a bolster could not be a 
very agreeable partner, and that — 

Oh, I am quite of your opinion ! ” said I, 
interrupting her quickly; “the only partners 
of any account are the partners in flesh and 
blood, especially when they have mustaches, 


176 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


and, above all, when their mustaches are 
blonde ! A little mustache that tickles your 
cheek while waltzing, ah ! it is delight — ” 
Whereupon I fell asleep and did not awake 
until three o’clock the next afternoon. 

When I was dressed M. de Pavol intimated 
through a servant that he should like to see 
me. I complied at once with this invitation, 
although I was pretty sure I was in for a lect- 
ure. From his solemn aspect I could see 
that my conjecture was correct, and as I have 
always been fond of my ease while listening 
to a sermon as well as on other occasions, I 
pushed an arm-chair forward and lay back com- 
fortably in it ; I crossed my hands on my knees 
and closed my eyes, waiting for what was to 
follow in an attitude of profound attention. 

At the end of a couple of seconds, as I 
heard nothing, I said : 

“ Well, uncle, why don’t you begin ? ” 
‘‘Oblige me by sitting up, Reine, and as- 
suming a more respectful attitude.” 

“ But, uncle,” said I, opening my eyes in 
amazement, “ I had not the slightest inten- 
tion of being disrespectful. If I have taken 
an attitude indicative of serious thought, I 
have done so with the object of paying closer 
attention to what you may say.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUBE. 177 

Niece, I firmly believe you will drive me 
crazy ! ” 

That’s quite likely, uncle,” I answered 
tranquilly ; my cure has often told me I 
should be the death of him.” ^ 

Indeed ! And do you really believe I 
am inclined to go to the devil for the sake of 
an unmannerly girl ? ” 

“ In the first place, uncle, I hope you ’ll 
never go to the devil, much as you seem to 
like that personage, to judge by your using 
his name so often ; and in the second, I should 
be in despair if I lost you, for I love you with 
all my heart.” 

Hum ! that, of course, is all very well ; 
but will you do me the favor of informing me 
why, after all my instruction and advice, 
you behaved with such scandalous impropriety 
last night ? ” 

Give the details and particulars of your 
indictment, uncle.” 

‘^It would take too long, for everything 
you did was ill done; you were, for all the 
world, like a young colt let loose. Among 
your other follies, the very moment you saw 
M. de Conprat you called him by his Chris- 
tian name. I was near you, and I could see 
your partner was surprised beyond measure.” 


178 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

I believe you ! He looked like a goose ! ” 
am not a goose, Eeine, and I regard 
your conduct as highly improper.” 

“ But, uncle, he is our cousin ; we see him 
almost every day. Blanche and I call him 
Paul whenever we talk of him, and often 
when we speak to him directly.” 

That may be allowable at home, but not 
in society, where every one is not bound to 
know the different degrees of relationship 
and kindred between people.” 

^^And so a person must act one way at 
home and another in society ? ” 

That is a fact of which I have been doing 
all in my power to convince you, niece.” 

But it ’s nothing more or less than sheer 
hypocrisy ! ” 

“ Then, in the name of Heaven, be a hypo- 
crite ! That is all I ask of you ! Moreover, 
it appears you told five or six young men 
they were very attractive.” 

And it was the naked truth ! ” I cried, in 
a sudden burst of sympathy for my partners ; 

they were so polite, so charming, and so 
eager to please me! Besides, I had got so 
confused as to what dances I had promised 
that I was afraid the young gentlemen might 
be annoyed.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 179 

Meanwhile, you have annoyed me, an- 
noyed me excessively, Eeine, For the last 
seven weeks Blanche and I have been doing 
our best to teach you to regulate your words 
and actions according to a certain standard, 
and, notwithstanding all our efforts, you 
never miss an opportunity of saying or 
doing something foolish. You are witty, 
coquettish, and, unfortunately for me, your 
face is ten times prettier than it ought to 
be, and ’’ — 

Go on ! I cried. That ’s something 
like talking ! That ’s the kind of sermon I 
like listening to ! ’’ 

Eeine, don’t interrupt me, I am speaking 
seriously.” 

Come now, uncle, let us reason the matter 
out. The first time you saw me you said: 
^ You are devilish pretty ! ’ ” 

And what follows, niece ? ” 

It follows, uncle, that one cannot always 
control one’s first impulses.” 

Possibly ; but you ought to endeavor to 
do so, and above all, you ought to heed my 
words. In spite of your extreme youth and 
small stature, you look like a woman; try, 
then, to acquire some of that dignity that 
befits a woman.” 


180 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


Dignity ? ” I exclaimed in astonishment ; 
what have I to do with dignity ? ’’ 

What have you to do with dignity ? What 
do you mean ? ” 

I don’t understand, uncle. Here you are 
preaching dignity to me when the government 
has so little ! ” 

I do not grasp the connection. What new 
fancy is this of yours ? ” 

Why, uncle, you have been proving that 
the government spends all its time playing at 
battledore ; now, in sober earnest, a govern- 
ment that does that has very little dignity. 
How, then, can you expect more dignity from 
a private individual than from ministers and 
senators ? ” 

My uncle burst out laughing. 

“ I might as well give up scolding you, 
Reine, you slip through one’s fingers like an 
eel. But however that may be, you may rest 
assured you cannot go to any more parties 
until you pay attention to what I say.” 

Oh, uncle, if you did such a thing as that 
you would deserve all the tortures of the In- 
quisition ! ” 

^^As the Inquisition happens to be abol- 
ished, I stand in no danger of torture. Beine, 
you make your mind up that you must obey 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 181 

me. I do not propose to' allow my niece to 
fall into habits which, though they may be 
pardoned at present on account of her youth, 
would cause her to be regarded later on as 
a — hem ! 

As a what, uncle ? ” 

Here M. de Pavol had a violent fit of 
coughing. 

“ As a woman reared in a wilderness, or 
something like it.^’ 

^^And that would not be so wide of the 
mark, either ! Le Buisson was for all the 
world like a wilderness.’’ 

“ Well, well, niece, I think you had better 
take it to heart that I am now talking seri- 
ously. You can retire and turn the matter 
over in your mind.” 

This time I saw that the stern lecture in 
which I had been brought to book was any- 
thing but a joke. I shut myself up in my 
room and pouted for a good twenty-eight and 
a half minutes. Still, I felt that there was a 
faint but praiseworthy desire springing up in 
my soul to regulate my conduct according to 
the standard adopted by my uncle and cousin. 


182 MY UNCLE AND MY CUflE. 


CHAPTER XIIL 

I SO ON found out that proverbs sometimes 
make good their claim to wisdom, that 
where there ’s a will there ’s a way, and that, 
if I set my heart on it, there was nothing to 
hinder me from giving practical effect to the 
counsels of my uncle. I do not wish to im- 
ply that I committed no more follies ; oh, 
no, not by any means ! they were still of 
rather frequent occurrence, but I became 
more temperate and forbearing, and acquired 
a composure that was, relatively, chastened 
and serene. 

I may add that though my uncle had scolded 
me, he had done so, as he said himself, only 
with the object of putting me on my guard 
in the future, for I was living in a circle that 
viewed my words and actions with the great- 
est indulgence, a circle distinguished for good 
breeding, politeness, and courteous traditions, 
and a circle, too, in which I was surprised to 
discover quite a number of friends and con- 
nections. 

Thanks to my name, my beauty, and my 
dowry, many of my sins against decorum 
were forgiven me. I became the pet of 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUUE. 183 


dowagers, who obligingly related anecdotes 
of my great-grandparents and of others of 
my forefathers whose valorous exploits must 
have been exceedingly remarkable, or these 
amiable and high-born ladies would not have 
spoken of them so warmly. It gave me con- 
siderable satisfaction to learn that ancestors 
have their uses, and can cover with their 
dusty aegis the pertness and extravagance of 
such of their youthful descendants as have 
issued from the depths of a wilderness. 

I was also the favorite of prospective hus- 
bands, who beheld the brightness of my 
dowry reflected in my sparkling eyes; the' 
favorite of my partners, who were highly 
amused by my coquetry, and I will confess, 
but in a whisper, with bated breath, that it 
delighted me beyond measure to break the 
hearts and turn the heads of certain indi- 
viduals. 

0 coquetry, what a hidden charm there is 
in every letter of thy name ! 

Surely my aptitude for the art must have 
been born and bred in me ; after two or three 
evenings I had all its details and stratagems 
and variations at my fingers’ ends. 

1 should like to be a preacher, just to have 
an opportunity to preach coquetry to my con- 


184 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 

gregation, and to have it in my power to 
withhold absolution from those among my 
penitents who were so senseless as to refuse 
to devote themselves to this charming pas- 
time. 

Perhaps I might not be allowed to remain 
very long in the fold of the Church ; but, 
however short my career, I fancy I should 
make some proselytes. I pity men who 
believing they know everything, are yet igno- 
rant of the choicest and most delicate pleas- 
ures. In my eyes they do not live, they 
simply vegetate. 

But while I was up to the ears in all kinds 
of bustle and excitement, and was trampling 
hearts under my feet, Blanche passed through 
our midst, haughty and beautiful, too sure of 
her loveliness to think it necessary to take 
the trouble of pleasing, too dignified to de- 
scend to the wiles and outbursts in which I 
delighted. 

Still, when the ardor of my first transports 
was somewhat allayed, the reflection soon 
occurred to my mind that it was taking M. de 
Gonprat a very long time to fall in love with 
me. He saw me under all aspects, in full 
dress and undress, saw me in every sort of 
mood, coquettish, grave, sometimes melan- 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 185 

choly, — though not often, I must confess, — 
and, in spite of these different phases, which 
proved, at least, there was nothing monoto- 
nous about me, he not only declined to make a 
declaration, but really appeared to treat me 
as a child. The words of the cure: ^^You 
may be sure he looks on you as a little girl, of 
no account,’’ began to trouble me greatly. 

In the midst of all my pleasures and amuse- 
ments and coquetry my love never wavered 
for a moment. No doubt the excitement in 
which I lived kept me from having my 
thoughts always fixed on it, and this it is that 
accounts for my long blindness ; but it never 
came into my mind that I could find a more 
charming man than Paul de Conprat. 

And yet, in the court that so eagerly pressed 
around me, there were several courtiers who 
bore a strong resemblance to the types I so 
much admired in Sir Walter Scott. I often 
asked myself how came it to pass that this 
plump hero of mine, with the jovial face and 
the marvellous appetite, had been able to 
gain such a mastery over my soul at the very 
time it was under the influence of imaginary 
personages to whom he bore no resemblance 
whatever. It is a psychological problem the 
solution of which I leave to the philosophers, 


186 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


because, as for myself, I have no time to 
attend to it ; I simply state the fact, make my 
courtesy to philosophy, and pass on. 

We had our last party on the 25th of Octo- 
ber, at a chateau near Pavol. I wore a dress 
of vaporous blue, with two or three knots of 
ribbon fastened in my dark hair and falling 
over one ear. I was more than usually pretty 
on this occasion, and had a tremendous suc- 
cess ; a success, indeed, of such a serious char- 
acter that during the following week my uncle 
received five offers for my hand. But for 
all that I was restless, feverish, and uneasy, 
and, contrary to» my usual habit, I did not 
enjoy the admiration kindled by my beauty. 
I was waiting impatiently for M. de Conprat, 
for I was anxious to watch him with eyes that 
were now beginning to see things with some 
clearness. He generally came in very late, 
with three or four young gentlemen belonging 
to the ultra-fashionable set of the neighbor- 
hood. These fastidious individuals had lost 
all relish for gayety from their tenderest 
years, and, as they considered it absolutely 
wearisome and distressing to have to waltz 
with pretty women, they proffered their 
requests in a bored, careless style that was 
decidedly impertinent. But Paul de Conprat 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUHE. 187 

was an exception; he was too honest and 
natural not to dance with the sprightliness 
and good humor demanded by the occasion. 
Nevertheless I may as well confess that my 
high spirits quickly dispelled the ennui of 
these unhappy victims of experience, as an 
unclouded sun dispels a thin mist. I knew so 
well how to rouse and excite them, and to 
make them veer round to whatever point my 
caprice suggested, that my uncle said : That 
girl is possessed ! ’’ 

Evil be to him who evil thinks ! 

It vexed me to notice that Paul waltzed so 
often with Blanche, while he seldom gave me 
an invitation, and was not very ceremonious 
or eager about it when he did. I hoped to 
attract his attention by flirting harder than 
ever. But he troubled his head very little 
about me ; his heart and mind were evidently 
fixed on something else, and I took refuge in 
a retired corner, declining resolutely to dance 
any longer. 

I had been for some time concealed among 
the hangings that separated the ball-room 
from a boudoir in which a number of women 
were seated, when I overheard the conversa- 
tion of two respectable dowagers whose af- 
fection I had captured. 


188 MY FNCLE AND MY CURE. 


Eeine is perfectly charming to-night ; she 
has had her usual success, too.” 

“ Still, Blanche de Pavol is more beautiful.” 

“ Yes, but not so fascinating. She is a dis- 
dainful queen, while Mademoiselle de Lavalle 
is an adorable little princess who looks as if 
she had just stepped out of a fairy tale.” 

The word ^’princess ’ suits her exactly ; she 
comes of a fine old stock and shows it. What 
would scandalize you in another becomes 
charming in her.” 

“ They say a marriage has been arranged 
between her cousin and M. de Conprat.” 

So I have heard.” 

During some seconds, orchestra, dowagers, 
and dancers spun round me in a dance to 
which I cannot give a name, and, to avoid 
falling, I clutched at the draperies in which 
I was ensconced. 

When I recovered from my lethargy that 
brilliant ball-room seemed as if it were veiled 
in heavy crape ; to Juno’s intense surprise, I 
begged her to leave at once, witliout waiting 
for the german. 

After returning to Pavol I said to myself : 
‘‘ It is not true, I am sure it cannot be true ! 
Why should I be so much troubled ? ” 

But I wept bitterly while I was undress- 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 189 

ing, for I had a presentiment that a terrible 
misfortune was about to fall upon me. Never- 
theless, as there is nothing in the world so 
volatile as the mind of a girl at sixteen, my 
hopes revived the next morning and I was 
inclined to regard the babble of these ladies 
as mere idle gossip. I resolved to pay close 
attention to M. de Conprat, for I was deter- 
mined to note any signs, no matter how 
trivial, that might serve to substantiate even 
such of my impressions as were past and 
evanescent. 

On the afternoon of that luckless day we 
were all in the drawing-room. The major and 
my uncle were absorbed in a game of chess, 
Blanche was playing a sonata of Beethoven, 
and I, leaning back in an arm-chair, was 
watching Paul de Conprat through my half- 
closed eyelids. He had taken a seat near the 
piano, just a little behind Juno, and was lis- 
tening with an air of great gravity, while his 
gaze was riveted on her face all the time. It 
struck me that this air of gravity did not 
suit him at all and resembled lassitude more 
than anything else. I was confirmed in #iis 
impression by noticing his efforts to stifle some 
unseasonable yawns. It was then that the 
full meaning of the pleasure I took in his own 


190 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 

playing burst upon me. I saw it was not the 
airs that took my fancy, but the performer, 
and I understood now that Paul was moved 
by that very same feeling. Much he cared 
for Beethoven, indeed ! it was Blanche he 
cared for, and the things he least relished 
pleased him in the woman he loved. 

Juno’s frightful sonata came to an end at 
last, and Paul exclaimed with an enthusiasm 
the hidden meaning of which was plain to me : 

What a master Beethoven is ! and how 
perfectly you interpret him, cousin ! ” 

You yawned ! ” I cried, leaping so sud- 
denly to my feet that the chess-players 
uttered a growl of anger. 

I thought you were asleep, Beine.” 

“No, I was not asleep, and I tell you Paul 
yawned while you were playing your abomi- 
nable Beethoven.” 

“Reine has such an aversion to music,” 
remarked my uncle, “ that she credits others 
with her own ideas.” 

“ Yes, and my ideas have made some fine 
discoveries ! ” I answered in a trembling 
voice. 

“ Why, what in the world ails you, Beine ? 
Did you sleep badly last night that you are in 
such a temper ? ” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 191 


I am not in a temper, Juno, but I detest 
hypocrisy, and I maintain, and will main- 
tain to my dying day, that Paul yawned and 
yawned. There ! 

After this outbreak I took to my heels, 
leaving the occupants of the drawing-room in 
a state of dismay. 

I locked myself in my room and strode up 
and down the floor, cursing my blindness and 
thumping my head with my flst, as was the 
manner of Perrine in any difficulty. But 
thumps on the head — apart from the fact 
that they may unsettle the brain — have 
never yet served as a remedy for an ill-starred 
love, and yielding to a feeling of utter despair 
I dropped into an easy-chair, in which I re- 
mained long, shivering and heart-broken. 

As is the case in all circumstances of this 
nature, I remembered words and details that 
ought, I said to myself, to have enlightened 
me twenty times for the one in which I might 
have been mistaken. Among many other in- 
distinct feelings there was one that predomi- 
nated : it was that of bitter rage, and, in my 
newly awakened and outraged pride, I vowed 
that never, never should I allow any one to 
perceive the cause of my misery. I was 
sincere in this, and I firmly believed it would 


192 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


be easy for me to hide my impressions, 
although I had been rather in the habit of 
hurling them at the heads of my acquaint- 
ances. I was passing through one of those 
moments of irritation during which the most 
even-tempered individual has a violent desire 
to strangle some one or to break something. 
My nervous excitement, which tears were un- 
able to relieve, absolutely needed some sort 
of outlet, and I fell into a passion with my 
little terra-cotta men, whose grimaces and 
smiles suddenly struck me as odious and 
ridiculous. I at once seized them and flung 
them through the window, experiencing a 
fierce pleasure as the noise they made when 
dashed to pieces on the gravel of the avenue 
reached my ear. But my uncle happened to 
be passing under my window at the time and 
received some of them on his venerated head, 
upon which, luckily, he had his hat. He 
evidently regarded my behavior as a more 
serious breach of the laws of etiquette than 
any that had occurred heretofore, as was 
manifested by the energy of the expressions 
employed in its denunciation. 

— ! and what the devil are you at there, 
niece ? ’’ 

I am throwing my little men out of the 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUBE. 193 


window, uncle, I answered, apioroaching the 
casement, from which I had stood away so 
as to fling my projectiles with more force. 

And is that any ground for breaking my 
head ? ’’ 

I beg your pardon, uncle, but I did not 
see you.’’ 

“ Have you gone mad of a sudden, niece ? 
What do you mean by smashing those gim- 
crack ornaments of yours ? ” 

They set my teeth on edge, uncle ; they 
unnerve, they infuri ate me ! Hold ! Here 
go the last of them ! ” 

I hurled five of them out together, and, 
abruptly closing the window, I left M. de 
Pavol to storm away at nieces and their 
whims and at the disorder of his avenue. 

He read me a lecture in the evening, which 
I listened to with the greatest unconcern. 
What was a wretched lecture to me in the 
midst of my sorrows and anxieties ? It pro- 
duced about as much effect as the bursting of 
a soap-bubble over my head. 

After dinner I went to gaze upon my little 
men that were strewn over the avenue ; they 
had quite a piteous air as they lay there, 
shattered, pulverized, like the hopes and illu- 
sions that I thought were now lost forever ! 


194 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

P erhaps my lack of discernment may 
create surprise ; but where is the per- 
son who, without having the excuse of my 
sixteen years, has not at least once in life 
given proof of incredible blindness ? I should 
be very glad to discover the man who has 
not called himself an idiot on stumbling upon 
some fact long unnoticed by him, although it 
was visible all the time. Ah, yes ! it is very 
easy to have discernment ; very easy to prove 
you have it when facts stare you in the face. 

It was regular agony for me now to keep a 
watch on M. de Conprat and to observe all 
the delicate attentions he paid to Blanche, 
knowing as well as I did the secret motives 
that were at the bottom of every one of them. 
How I wept in secret ! And yet I believe I 
really never felt particularly jealous of Juno. 
Good heavens, no ! I was simply a little 
thing who loved deeply and sincerely, but 
not the slightest shadow of lawless passion 
ever mingled with my love. Only I was in 
a condition of perpetual irritation with M. 
de Conprat. I made him the scapegoat of 
my bad temper, my secret sorrows and 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUR^J. 195 

grievances. I never stopped worrying him 
and addressing remarks to him that were out- 
wardly polite, but concealed a hidden sting. 
Then I usually hurried to my room, where 
I harangued myself in somewhat the follow- 
ing fashion while striding up and down the 
floor ; 

How very clever of him, indeed ! — to 
lose his heart to a woman who is no more 
like him than a dock is like a daisy ! He so 
merry and chatty, quite as chatty as I am my- 
self, beyond a doubt ! and she so grave, so 
silent, and such a stickler for etiquette, a 
thing that often bores him to death, if I 
know what I’m talking about. Why, we 
understood each other to perfection ! How 
is it he has n’t seen that ? Still, Blanche is 
as good as she is beautiful ; he has known 
her long, and, when all is said and done, no 
one is master of his affections.” 

However, these fine arguments did not 
give me a great deal of consolation. 

I sobbed as soon as I went to bed, some- 
times continued sobbing most of the night, 
and in spite of my firm determination to hide 
my feelings, before a fortnight elapsed every 
one in Pavol — whether guest or inmate — 
was astounded at my whims and caprices. 


196 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


In the morning I was sometimes so gay that 
I laughed entire hours ; in the evening I sat 
down to dinner, looking as gloomy as possible, 
and was as mute as a fish during the entire 
repast. 

A silence so unusual in my case alarmed M. 
de Pavol exceedingly. 

“ What is running in your little head, 
Eeine ? 

Nothing, uncle.’’ 

Perhaps you are fagged out. How would 
you like to take a trip somewhere ? ” 

Oh, no, no, uncle ; it would break my 
heart to leave Pavol.” 

If you are anxious to marry, Reine, you 
are free to do so ; I am not a tyrant. You 
are not sorry you rejected all the offers that 
have been coming on top of one another for 
some time ? ” 

No, uncle, I have given up that idea en- 
tirely; I do not wish to marry.” 

These unfortunate offers also added to my 
misery. The mere mention of marriage made 
me feel like bursting into tears. Though M. 
de Pavol did not exercise any pressure on me 
he laid before me the advantages of the several 
matches, and was rather persistent in requir- 
ing me to become at least acquainted with my 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 197 

various suitors. He would not have been far 
wrong in describing each of them as unob- 
jectionable,’’ and, among the numerous dis- 
coveries I was making daily, that of my 
uncle’s inconsistency was not the least aston- 
ishing. Deep down in his heart there was, I 
think, some feeling of apprehension in con- 
nection with the charge for which he had 
made himself responsible. But he left me 
entirely free, and was content to accept my 
reasons for refusing certain offers, reasons 
which, to tell the truth, were utterly absurd. 

Why did you tell us so often, Reine, that 
you were in a hurry to get married ? ” in- 
quired Blanche. 

I don’t intend marrying until I find what 
I want.” 

Indeed ! And pray what is it you 
want ?” 

I don’t know — yet,” I answered, with a 
break in the voice. 

Blanche took my face between her hands 
and scrutinized me attentively. 

I wish I could 'read your thoughts, my 
little Reine. Are you in love with any one ? 
With Paul ? ” 

I give you my solemn word I am not,” I 
said, freeing myself from her hands ; I am 


198 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

in love with nobody, and when I am you 
shall know all about it at once.” 

If death were not so frightful I am sure I 
should allow myself to be killed sooner than 
confess my love for a man who loved another 
woman, especially as this woman was my own 
cousin. Fortunately, there was no question 
of my death, either by impalement or guillo- 
tine; if there had been, my stoicism would 
have probably wilted immediately. 

‘^1 am simply doing as you are doing, 
Blanche; I am waiting.” 

I have not the same success as my wild 
little country maiden from Le Buisson,” she 
answered, with a smile. Five offers of mar- 
riage on the same day ! ” 

^^Please don’t talk about it; the mere men- 
tion of it wearies and disgusts me ! ” 

Unfortunately, a sixth suitor, with a com- 
bination of the rarest and most extraordinary 
perfections, suddenly entered the ranks of my 
adorers. Alas ! I was reaping what I had 
sown, for, on my very first appearance in 
society, I took care to inform everybody of 
my intention to get married at the earliest 
possible moment. 

My uncle sent for me and we had a long 
conversation. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUR^:. 199 


“ Reine, M. Le Maltour solicits the honor 
of asking you in marriage.’^ 

Much good may it do him, uncle ! 

“ He does n’t please you, does he ? ” 

Not at all.” 

And why ? Give me a few reasons, and 
let them be good ones ; those you mentioned 
the other day in connection with the gentlemen 
you rejected so curtly were simply worthless.” 

Those gentlemen of yours were not pre- 
sentable, uncle ! ” 

“ Oh, nonsense, Reine ! Surely M. de P — 
was not amiss.” 

A man of thirty, uncle ! Why not marry 
me to a patriarch at once ? ” 

Well, what about M. C — ? ” 

“ But his name is so vulgar, uncle ! ” 

^^Then there is M. de N — , a fine young 
fellow and remarkably intelligent ; what have 
you to say to him ? ” 

Think of a man having only fourteen 
hairs left on his head at the age of twenty- 
six ! I counted them, uncle.” 

Hem ! — and little D — ? ” 

I do not like brown men. Besides, he is 
a perfect cipher. Once married, he would 
adore his face, his neckties, and my money ; 
that ’s all there ’s to him ! ” 


200 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

“I abandon him to your tender mercies. 
But, to return to Baron Le Mai tour, what 
charge can you bring against him ? ” 

“A man who refused to dance anything 
but quadrilles with me because I cannot 
dance the waltz a trois temps ! ’’ I cried, with 
indignation. ■ 

“ A serious offence, that ! Although I say 
again that I think it absurd for any one to 
marry at your age, still, in spite of your 
beauty and your dowry, you may be a long 
time before you find a person who is so suited 
in every respect to be your husband as Baron 
Le Maltour. He is a charming gentleman, 
and I have received the very best accounts of 
his morals and character ; an immense for- 
tune, a title, a very ancient and honorable 
family, a ” — 

“ Oh, yes, of course, ancestors ! as Blanche 
says,’’ I interrupted scornfully. I have a 
horror of ancestors, uncle.” 

And may I ask why ? ” 

People who used to think of nothing but 
quarrelling and getting their heads broken ! 
What foolishness ! ” 

Be it as you wish, then ! I know the clerk 
of the court at V — believes you to be a most 
attractive girl ; he has no ancestors. Shall 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 201 

we inform him that Mademoiselle de Lavalle 
is desirous of marrying him on that account ? ’’ 
“ Please don’t be sarcastic, uncle ; you know 
that I am a patrician to the very tips of my 
fingers,” taking advantage of the opportunity 
to admire my little hand and the tips of these 
same slender fingers. 

So I should be inclined to believe, unless 
your appearance is a deception. And now, 
niece, pay close heed to my words. You are 
not well enough acquainted with M. Le Mal- 
tour to be able to form any judgment as to his 
disposition, and I have decided that you mhst 
see him several times before giving a final 
answer. I shall write to Madame Le Maltour 
that, while the matter ultimately rests with 
you, I authorize her son to visit Pavol when- 
ever he is so inclined.” 

Very well, uncle, it shall be as you desire.” 
Five minutes afterwards I was rambling 
through the woods, a prey to the most violent 
agitation. 

Ah ! ” said I, biting my handkerchief to 
stifle my sobs, things are coming to a pretty 
pass ! He ’ll get a nice reception, this Maltour 
will ! It will take me just four days to be rid 
of him — And my uncle, who sees nothing, 
who understands nothing ” — 


202 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

There was where I was mistaken. My 
uncle, notwithstanding my ostentatious at- 
tempts at dissimilation, saw clearly enough, 
but he was acting with great prudence. He 
could not hinder M. de Conprat from falling 
in love with his daughter, nor could he give 
up the idea, either, of an alliance upon which 
both he and the major had set their hearts 
for a long time past. Moreover, being thor- 
oughly convinced that there was little depth 
and much childishness in this attachment of 
mine, he imagined the best way to cure me of 
m^ infatuation was to turn my thoughts in 
the direction of a man who, by virtue of his 
love for me, would succeed in winning my 
love also, in accordance with the axiom that 

love attracts love.’’ 

The reasoning would have been perfect if 
it had not been based on false premises. 

Two days later, Madame Le Maltour and 
her sou arrived, both of them looking hopeful 
and smiling. The worthy lady made me the 
most friendly advances, all of whicli I received 
with the moroseness of a Jesuit porter. 

The baron was a most exemplary young 
man — please do not jump at conclusions ; I 
do not imply by this that he was a simpleton, 
not by any manner of means ! On the con- 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 203 

trary, he was clever and intelligent. How- 
ever, he was only twenty-three, and was timid 
and very much in love, qualities which did 
not tend to brighten his intellect, but which 
it would be ungracious for me to criticise. 

The next day he came to see us without his 
mother, and did his best to engage me in con- 
versation. 

Do you regret there are no more evening 
parties, mademoiselle ? 

Yes,’’ I replied in a tone as surly as 
Suzon’s. 

Did you enjoy the party given the other 
day by the — s ? ” 

And yet it was brilliant. By the way, 
what a pretty dress you wore ! You are fond 
of blue ? ” 

Evidently, or I should n’t have put it on.” 

M. Le Maltour coughed discreetly to give 
himself courage. 

Are you fond of travelling, mademoi- 
selle ? ” 

I am astonished at that ! I imagined 
you had just that high-spirited disposition 
that takes naturally to travelling.” 

All nonsense ! I am afraid of everything.” 


204 MY UNCLE AND MY CURB. 

The conversation continued for some time 
in this tone. Disconcerted by my curt an- 
swers, as well as by the interest I took in the 
progress of a fly that was walking along the 
arm of my chair, and by my airs of imperti- 
nence generally, the baron rose with a some- 
what flushed countenance and cut short his 
visit. 

My uncle escorted him as far as the garden 
gate, and returned in a towering passion. 

This cannot continue, Reine,” he said. 
^‘By heavens! when you insulted that poor 
boy whom you have been trampling upon, you 
insulted me as well. M. Le Maltour is not 
the sort of man you can treat as a gull, my 
flne niece. No one is forcing you to marry 
him, but I require you to be amiable and 
courteous. God knows you have the gift of 
the gab when you like ! Let me see that you 
have it to-morrow. M. Le Maltour is to lunch 
with us.’’ 

Very well, uncle, you need not be uneasy. 
I will talk.” 

Not nonsense, though, I hope.” 

“ I will draw my inspiration from science, 
uncle,” I replied majestically. 

‘‘ You will draw your ” — 

Be not alarmed, my good uncle, I will do 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 205 


what you desire, I will speak right on, with 
never a pause.’’ 

However, niece, that is not exactly what 
I” — 

But I let my uncle confide his thoughts to 
the furniture of the drawing-room, and hurried 
to the library in search of material needed to 
carry out an idea that had just flashed through 
my brain. I took away with me the “ Phi- 
losophy of Malbranche,” and a work on 
Tartary. 

Malbranche nearly affected me with a rush 
of blood to the head, and I abandoned him to 
pounce upon Tartary, which offered me more 
resources. I studied a few pages closely 
until midnight, all the time grumbling and 
fuming at the inhabitants of Bokhara with 
their uncouth appellations. I was successful, 
however, in storing my mind with some de- 
tails, and with a few queer words, the mean- 
ing of which I missed entirely. I got into 
bed, rubbing my hands gleefully. 

We ’ll see,” I said to myself, whether Le 
Maltour will resist this trial. Ah, my worthy 
uncle, I ’ll have it all my own way, you may 
depend on it ! and, before many hours go by, 
I shall make a clean sweep of this intruder.” 

The baron made his appearance the next 


206 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

day, having the pleasing but somewhat un- 
gainly attitude of a person who is walking 
upon eggs. However, I received him so gra- 
ciously that he became quite natural after a 
time, and the anxiety of M. de Pavol van- 
ished. 

The De Conprats and the cure lunched with 
us. The sight of Paul chatting gayly with 
Blanche wrung my heart, especially as I was 
condemned to endure the timid attentions of 
M. Le Maltour, whose pretty face made my 
nerves ache. 

I have changed my opinion since yester- 
day,” I said abruptly ; I am now very fond 
of travelling.” 

I share your taste, mademoiselle, it is the 
most intellectual of all amusements.” 

“ You have travelled ? ” 

“Yes, a little.” 

“ Are you acquainted with the Euddars, the 
Schakirdpisches, the Usbecks, the Tadjics, the 
Mollahs, the Dehbas chis, the Pendja-Baschis, 
and the Alemanes ? ” I said with a rush, mak- 
ing a jumble of races, classes, and dignities. 

“ What is the meanin g of all that ? ” asked 
the baron, dumfounded. 

“ What ? Have you never travelled in Tar- 
tary ? ” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 207 

“Never, certainly.’^ 

“ Never travelled in Tartary ? ” 1 exclaimed 
contemptuously. “But, surely, you must 
know something at least of Nasr-Ullah-Ba- 
hadin-Khan-Melic- el-Munemin-Bird-Blac-Bloc 
and the devil ? 

I had added a few syllables of my own in- 
vention to the name of Nasr-Ullah, with the 
view of producing greater effect, believing 
that that worthy individual would hardly rise 
from his grave to upbraid me. 

My uncle and his guests had to bite their 
lips to avoid laughing, while M. Le Maltour 
looked absolutely scared. At length Blanche 
exclaimed : 

“ Are you getting crazy, Keine ? ” 

“ Why, no, not at all crazy, my dear. I am 
simply going to ask the gentleman whether 
he shares my keen sympathy for Nasr-Ullah, 
a man who, it appears, had every vice that 
ever was known. He spent his time in cut- 
ting the throats of his neighbors and flinging 
ambassadors into dungeons where he let them 
rot ; in a word, he was endowed with every 
sort of energy and was absolutely ignorant of 
the meaning of timidity, and timidity, in my 
opinion, is a horrible defect. And then, his 
country ! The most delightful country in the 


208 MY UNCLE AND MY CURB. 

world ! All kinds of diseases have full swing 
there, and if I ever marry it is the very spot 
I intend to send my husband to. Just only 
think of it ! — consumption, small-pox, black- 
vomit that continues six months, ulcers, lep- 
rosy, and a worm named rischa that gnaws 
the life out of you ; to free yourself from 
its ’’ — 

That will do, Keine ; have the kindness 
to let us enjoy our food in peace.’’ 

^^But what can you expect, uncle ? I feel 
strongly attracted towards Tartary. Do 
you ? ” I said, turning to M. Le Maltour. 

“ What you tell us about it is not very en- 
couraging, mademoiselle.” 

^‘Yes, for people who have no blood in 
their veins ! ” I replied disdainfully. But 
when I am married 1 shall go to Tartary.” 

“Thank heaven, you will not be your own 
mistress then, niece ! ” 

“ You may take my word for it that I shall 
be, uncle ; I shall always do what I like and 
never what my husband likes. In any case 
I shall take him to Bokhara, so that the 
worms may eat him.” 

“ What ? so that the worms may ” — mur- 
mured the baron timidly. 

“ Yes, monsieur, you have heard correctly. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 209 


I said, ^so that the worms may eat him,’ 
because, in my eyes, the most charming 
position in life is that of a widow.” 

The high and puissant Baron Le Maltour, 
although sprung from a race of doughty 
warriors, no longer resisted. Understanding 
the significance of what lay hidden under 
these Tartarian crotchets of mine, he departed 
forthwith and nevermore returned. 

My uncle was very angry, but his anger 
did not move me in the least. I took a 
turn on my heels and said pithily: 

Uncle, where there ’s a will there ’s a 
way ! ” 


CHAPTER XV. 

I HAD kept my promise to the cure at first, 
and used to write to him twice a week very 
punctually. This custom of mine used to fill 
him with such delight, with such a sense of 
comfort, that when my correspondence became 
all of a sudden less regular, he was worried 
and distressed beyond measure. 

For a whole fortnight I was so entirely en- 
grossed by my troubles that I did not even 
let him know I was still in the land of the 


210 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 


living ; then, yielding to his urgent entreaties, 
I forwarded him certain epistles from which 
I give the following extracts. They will serve 
as examples : 

Man is a stupid animal, M. le Cure, a fact 
I have just discovered. What are your ideas 
on the subject, my dear cure ? Propriety be 
hanged ! I send you a kiss.’’ 

Or: 

“ Ah, my poor cur4, 1 am much afraid I have 
stumbled on the fountain the cold water comes - 
from we were talking about three months 
ago ! Happiness has no existence ; it is a pit- 
fall, a fraud, a myth, anything you wish except 
a reality. Farewell ! — if death did not ren- 
der us so ugly, I should be in love with death. 
Yes, in love with death, my cure, — you have 
read correctly.” 

He answered by return of post : 

My dear child, what do you mean by the 
tone of your last letters ? Three weeks ago 
you appeared to be so happy, in all the joy and 
glory of your social success ! No, no, my little 
Eeine, happiness is no myth, and you will have 
your full share of it before long ; but at the 
present moment you are entirely in the grasp 
of your imagination. It has got the better of 
you and hinders you from seeing things as 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 211 

\ 

they are. You have not followed my advice, 
Eeine. You have lit too many bonfires, have 
you not ? My poor little child, had you not 
better pay me a visit ? We could then have 
a talk together on our troubles.’’ 

To which I answered : 

M. LE Cure : The imagination is a block- 
head, life a rag, the world a tattered garment 
that may have a brilliant aspect when seen 
from afar, but, on a nearer view, is discovered 
to be fit for nothing except to be converted 
into a scarecrow and frighten the birds from 
a cherry tree. Ah, my dear cure, hbw I should 
like to bury myself in La Trappe ! Were I 
only certain that, at stated intervals, I should 
be allowed to dance with certain charming 
partners like some I know, I would certainly 
seek an asylum within its austere enclosure 
and hide my youth and beauty in the cloister 
forever! But if I am not mistaken this 
method of relaxation is not permitted by the 
rules of the order. Would you kindly give 
me some information on this question ? Best 
assured, M. le Cure, you are little better than 
an optimist when you assert that happiness 
exists and is destined to be my portion. You 
live like the rat in the cheese, M. le Cur4. Not 
that there is a bit of egotism in your nature, 


212 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


but you are totally unconscious of the catas- 
trophes that may come swooping down on the 
heads of those who are compelled to live in 
society. 

I have lost all my illusions, my good cure. 
I am an honest little old woman, cramped 
and stunted and withered, — morally, of 
course, for, otherwise, I am prettier than 
ever, — a little old woman, my cure, who no 
longer believes or hopes, and who wonders 
sadly at the stolidity of a world that continues 
to roll on after her dearest joys and dreams 
have been crushed, pulverized, reduced to im- 
perceptible atoms. My moral personality, if 
it could be stripped bare of that fleshly vesture 
which deceives the eyes of the observer, and 
naturally deceives them, I freely admit, — my 
moral personality, I repeat, is but a skeleton, 
a tree that is dead ; ah, yes ! — dead, dead ! a 
sapless tree that is denuded of all its foliage, 
and uplifts to the heavens its huge but bony 
and rigid arms. But, oh, M. le Cure, what if 
my physical personality were to be engulfed 
in the same abyss in which my moral person- 
ality is swallowed ! I tremble to think of it ! 
Not to have a solitary illusion left me at the 
age of sixteen ! Oh, it is terrible ! 

Farewell, my old cure.’’ 


MY UNCLE AND JNIY CURE. 


213 


Two days after the dispatch of this epistle, 
which must have given the cure a rather sad 
idea of the condition of my soul, my uncle 
decided we should spend an afternoon at 
Mont Saint-Michel. 

On that day I had a sinister presentiment 
that some wind of evil was sweeping along 
through the atmosphere. During the evening 
before, the major and M. de Pavol had b^eld 
a secret and prolonged conversation; Paul 
seemed restless and nervous, and my cousin 
dreamy. 

My uncle and Juno, who were passionately 
fond of Mont Saint-Michel, took a good deal 
of pleasure in showing me through it; but, 
apart from the fact that I care very little 
about architecture, I viewed everything 
through the gloomy veil of a temper that had 
become positively waspish. 

How wearisome it is, climbing all these 
flights ! ” I said, with a groan at every step. 

We must scale some six hundred more of 
them before we reach the summit, cousin.” 

I had rather stop where I am, then ! ” 
‘^Come along, niece; what the devil ails 
you ? You have nT got the gout ? ” 

And my uncle, while mounting the steps 
that had been trodden by so many generations. 


214 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


related the history of the Mount, and the 
story of Montgommery. But great store, in- 
deed, I set by this Montgommery, and the 
immense halls, and the marvellous abbey, and 
the multitude of memories that have been 
slumbering there for centuries ! I would have 
taken good care not to awake them even if I 
could, for I felt a hundred times more inter- 
estNin observing the countenance of yon stout 
boy who was as attentive to Blanche as he pos- 
sibly ^ould be, and never thought of me at all. 

How stupid it was of me not to have 
guessed his love for her earlier ! He fell into 
raptures over the smallest stone in the build- 
ing, because he knew his enthusiasm would 
please her, and from time to time I darted 
some black looks at him, of which he did not 
condescend to take the slightest notice. 

^‘Ah! We are now in the Hall of the 
Knights. Well, Beine, what do you think of 
it?” 

think, uncle, that if the knights were 
present there might be something worth 
looking at.” 

So you don’t think it is worth looking at 
for its own sake ? ” 

Hot in the slightest. I see big chimneys, 
and pillars with little figures carved on them 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 215 


at the top, but without the knights, whose 
heads one might turn just a little — pooh! 
the whole thing has no meaning at all.” 

“ It has never occurred to me that this was 
another way of viewing feudal architecture,” 
said my uncle, laughing. 

We passed through gloomy corridors which 
frightened me. 

^^We are going to break our necks, for 
sure I ” I groaned, grasping the arm of the 
major, while Paul offered his to Blanche. 

Has anything , annoyed you, my little 
Reine ? ” whispered the major. 

You talk just as my cure used to do,” I 
answered, with some emotion. 

Come, now, would you like to confide in 
me ? ” 

I am not annoyed,” I answered crossly, 
‘^and I do not care to confide in anybody. 
Suzon told me that men were as bad as bad 
can be, and I am of Suzon’s opinion.” 

^‘Oh!” exclaimed the major, looking at 
me in such kindly fashion that I was afraid 
I should have to sob ; such misanthropy in 
one so young ! ” 

I did not answer, and when we reached a 
sort of terrace I escaped and hid behind an 
enormous arcade. I leaned my head on one 


216 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

of the stones that had been there for ages, 
and burst into tears. 

Ah ! I thought, ^^how truly my cure 
spoke when he said — oh, so long ago ! — 
that we cannot argue with life, but must 
submit to it ! All my logic is useless when 
I am confronted by circumstances. How 
sad it is, how very sad, to see one’s self treated 
as a little girl of no account whatever ! ” 

And I gazed, through my tears, at those 
much vaunted strands, which wore, in my 
eyes, an aspect of utter desolation, and on 
this monument whose height crushed me and 
made me dizzy ; but, without being able to 
account for the sensation, I felt a sort of 
consolation in the mysterious affinity of my 
gloomy surroundings with my own thoughts ; 
in the contemplation of those mighty walls 
which cast their huge and melancholy 
shadows over the past, as well as over the 
earth beneath them. 

On our way homeward in the train my uncle 
said : 

“ Well, Eeine, what impression, on the 
whole, did Mont Saint-Michel make on you ? ” 
I think, uncle, it ’s a place you ’d be sure 
to die of fright in, and catch the rheumatism 
besides.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 217 


Along the road that leads from V — station 
to Pavol, I pondered on the instability of all 
earthly things. Scarcely three months had 
elapsed since I traversed the same highway 
under the influence of my blissful dreams, in- 
toxicated by joyous thoughts that dwelt on 
that future I believed so fair. And now that 
same highway seemed strewn with the relics 
of a vanished happiness. 

It was rather late when we arrived at the 
chateau ; but my uncle carried Blanche away 
to his room, saying that, late as it was, he 
must have a serious talk with her. 

I retired to rest, weeping bitter tears, con- 
vinced that the sword of Damocles was sus- 
pended over my head. 

For some time Juno had become very 
friendly and companionable. Every morning 
she would sit on my bed, and we chatted on a 
variety of subjects in a vague sort of way. 
She came into my room at seven the next day, 
looking as calm and stately as usual, and with 
that charming smile that quite transfigured 
her ; a smile with which, perhaps, I alone was 
well acquainted. 

^^Reine,’’ she said, ^‘Paul has asked my 
father for my hand.” 

The thread had broken, and the sword of 


218 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

Damocles fell. What an idiot that king must 
have been to tie so heavy an object with a 
mere thread ! But, by the way, does not 
history speak of a hair ? History is quite 
capable of saying such things. 

Doubtless I had expected this revelation, 
but as long as a fact is not proven accom- 
plished, where is the human creature that does 
not preserve, deep down in its heart, a little 
hope ? I turned very pale, so pale that, 
although the room was very dark, Blanc] le 
perceived it. 

What is the matter, Beine ? Are you 
ill ? ” 

“ A cramp,” I murmured feebly. 

“ Then I ’ll go and get some ether,” she said 
quickly. 

^‘No, no,” I answered, doing my best to 
hook on to my pride, which was going to the 
dogs ; it is over, Blanche, entirely over.” 

“ Does the pain alfect you often, Beine ? ” 

‘^Ho — just now and then. It is nothing, 
please don’t speak of it.” 

Blanche rubbed her forehead with her hand, 
like a person who is trying to get rid of some 
troublesome thought. But I resumed the con- 
versation in so firm a voice that she was, ap- 
parently, relieved. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 219 

Well, Juno, what do you intend doing ? ” 
My father tells me that such a marriage 
would gratify his fondest wish.’’ 

But how do you feel yourself about it ? ” 
Obviously, it is a very good match, suit- 
able in every respect, both in his case and 
mine. But then, until now I have never 
thought of Paul except as a cousin.” 

What have you against him ? ” 

I have nothing against him — unless, per- 
haps, that I do not like him well enough to 
marry him. He is a good sort of young 
fellow, but I do not care particularly for that 
kind of man. Then, he is not very handsome. 
And such a voracious appetite ! Hot much 
poetry in that, you will admit ! ” 

^^Yet it’s very reasonable to eat when 
you ’re hungry,” I answered, keeping back the 
tears. 

That may be. Still, I am not sure that 
we exactly suit each other.” 

Then you are going to refuse him, Juno ? ” 
I have asked a month to make up my 
mind, one way or the other, Beine. I am 
greatly disturbed, for I am afraid my father 
will be disappointed if I refuse. Besides, 
seen under certain aspects, this marriage 
ought to combine every advantage I could 


220 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

desire ; and the man in the case is a very es- 
timable person.” 

But if you do not love him, Blanche ? ” 

My father holds that I shall love him 
later on, and that people can marry and live 
happily together without love, when all is said 
and done.” 

How can you believe it ! ” I cried, leaping 
up in my indignation. In truth, my uncle 
holds some opinions that are really odious ! ” 

But Blanche answered, coolly, that her 
father was one of the most sensible of men ; 
she had often noticed how seldom he was mis- 
taken in his conclusions, and so was rather 
disposed to obey him. 

Is Paul very fond of you, Juno ? ” I mum- 
bled, forcing out the words. 

Yes, he has been so for a long time.” 

And you knew it ? ” 

Of course ! a woman always knows such 
things. Did you never perceive it yourself ? ” 

Yes — just a little,” I replied, with a sad 
recollection of my stupidity. 

Blanche left me, after explaining that Paul 
had refrained from asking her hand because 
he dreaded a refusal. 

The very thing I thought myself ! And I 
dressed in feverish haste, for I saw that her 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUR^l. 221 


father’s influence would prevail on her to con- 
sent in the end. 

In her place I should have said ^ yes ’ in a 
second, and, a fortnight afterwards, we would 
have been married ! ” 

Alas ! it was all over with my dreams, 
and I sank into a state of utter depression. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

I T was agreed that Paul should stay away 
for some time from Pavol, and then a 
thing occurred which, to my mind, was un- 
heard of, incredible : Blanche, as soon as she 
was no longer in the habit of seeing him daily, 
seemed almost decided on marrying him ! He 
was the constant subject of our conversation, 
and we had even got so far as to discuss the 
articles of the trousseau ; my stoical resigna- 
tion in these circumstances would have done 
honor to the men of old. 

But this resignation was more apparent than 
real. 

I became more depressed than ever, there 
were blue circles around my eyes, and I began 
to tell myself that, as life was unendurable 


222 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

far from the man I loved, the most natural 
thing for me to do was to pay the debt we all 
owe to nature at as early a date as possible. 

It was, in good sooth, a very painful alter- 
native, but I clutched at the idea with ardor ; 
it became the subject of my profoundest medi- 
tations ; I fondled it with an almost sickly 

joy- 

Yet I call Heaven to witness that never, 
never did the thought occur to me of suffocat- 
ing myself with charcoal or of swallowing 
poison, as is the fashion with so many of our 
worthy citzens and citizenesses at the present 
day. But having read in some book or other 
that a young girl had died of grief because of 
a love that had no fruition, I determined to 
follow her example. 

As soon as I had made up my mind on the 
subject — and I was assisted in this by a de- 
cided change for the worse in my appearance 
— I judged that common politeness, if not a 
sense of propriety, required me to inform the 
cure of my momentous resolution, aside from 
the fact that I felt it impossible to depart 
without, at least, a farewell grasp of his hand. 

The matter being now settled forever, I 
entered my uncle’s study one morning and 
asked him to let me go to Le Buisson. 


MY UNCLE AND OT CUBE. 223 


I should much rather, Reine, have you 
write to the cure to come here.” 

He could not, uncle ; he never has a sou 
in his pocket.” 

‘‘ I don’t see what pleasure there can be for 
me in taking you there, niece.” 

Please don’t come, uncle, you would only 
bore me. I should like to go alone with the 
old housekeeper, if you have no objection.” 

Well, you can do as you like. My car- 
riage will bring you to C — . There you can 
easily find some conveyance or other to take 
you to Le Buisson. When do you start ? ” 

Early to-morrow morning, uncle. I want 
to surprise the cur4, and T intend sleeping at 
the presbytery.” 

^^All right, then. But be sure to be at 
C — the day after to-morrow, at three, or there- 
abouts.” 

He looked at me attentively from under his 
bushy eyebrows, rubbing his chin with an air 
of absent-mindedness. 

Are you unwell, Reine ? ” 

^^Ho, uncle.” 

“My dear little niece,^’ said he, drawing 
me to him, “ I am almost beginning to wish 
that my hopes may not be fulfilled.” 

I gazed at him in dumb astonishment, for 


224 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

it had always been my firm belief that he 
saw nothing. 

After a time, I answered, with considerable 
c-oolness, that I did not know what he meant, 
for I was very happy, and it was my sincerest 
desire that all his plans might be successful. 
He kissed me affectionately and dismissed 
me. 

I started the next morning, after rejecting 
the offer of Blanche, who proposed to accom- 
pany me. 

I reflected on my uncle’s words during the 
journey. 

He knows all,” I thought. Good 
heavens, what a bungler I am, with all my 
pretensions ! And then, even supposing 
Juno’s marriage fall through, how can that 
help me, as long as Paul does not love me ? 
He never can love any one else now ! I do 
not understand my uncle.” 

I no longer believed, as I used to do, that 
a man could become enamored of several 
women. Judging by my own feelings, I told 
myself that the man who can love twice is 
about the strangest phenomenon the world 
can produce. 

As soon as I had timed the heart-beats of 
the bearded sex in tins fashion, my ideas 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 225 

took another direction, and I began to feel 
really happy at the thought of the meeting 
between the cure and myself. I was resolved 
to throw my arms around his neck, if it were 
only to prove my independence and my 
supreme scorn of etiquette. 

When I came to the grounds of the presby- 
tery I did not enter by the gate, but through 
a gap in the hedge known to me from time 
immemorial, and I stole with catlike tread to 
the window of the parlor in which the cure 
was sure to be now having his breakfast. 
Although this window was very low, I was so 
little myself that I was obliged to get up on 
a log, lying against the wall and used as a 
bench, to see through it. 

I thrust my head through the ivy which 
ran around the window and almost covered 
it, and there, before my eyes, was my dear 
cure. 

He was seated at table, eating with an air 
of great dejection. His honest face had lost 
a good deal of its coloring and plumpness. 
His abundant white hair was no longer in a 
state of disorder, but smoothed down on his 
head, and this, too, added immensely to the 
expression of utter gloom betrayed by his 
whole appearance. 


226 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


All, my poor dear cure ! ” 

I jumped down from the log, made such a 
rush for the door that away went my hat, 
and I darted like a flash of lightning into 
the room. 

The cure started up, aghast, and then his 
lovable, kindly face actually shone with joy 
the moment he perceived me. I fell into his 
arms and wept on his shoulder. Nor did I 
do so from a desire to violate all the tradi- 
tions of etiquette either. Oh, no ! my action 
was prompted by sincere emotion, by an un- 
controllable feeling of affection. 

I know well that there is nothing in the 
world so improper as to weep on the shoulder 
of your cure, and that my uncle and Juno, 
and all the dowagers of the entire earth, 
would have forgotten my ancestors and veiled 
their faces in horror in the presence of a 
spectacle so scandalous ; my excuse is that 
I had been too short a time attending lect- 
ures in the school of punctilio to be able 
to stifle completely the impulsiveness of my 
nature. Besides, I hold for certain that only 
idiots, and heartless and conceited folk gen- 
erally, never sacrifice conventionalities to a 
deep and true emotion. 

Ah ! my dear cure, life is but a rag, a 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 227 


wretched rag, my dear cure,’’ I gasped be- 
tween my sobs. 

“And have things gone so hard with you, 
my dear little child ; have they really gone so 
hard with you ? Oh, no, no, it cannot be 
possible ! ” 

And the poor cure, laughing and weeping 
at the same time, gazed at me tenderly, passed 
his hand over my head, and spoke to me as if 
I were a little wounded bird whose broken 
wing he would try to heal by caresses and 
loving words. 

“ Come, now, Reine ; come, my dear child, 
you must do your best to recover a little 
calmness,” he said, putting me away from 
him gently. 

You are right, M. le Cure,” I answered, 
thrusting my handkerchief into my pocket. 
“For three whole months have they been 
preaching calmness to me, and you see how I 
have profited by their lectures ! Let us have 
something to eat, M. le Cure.” 

I took off my gloves and cloak, and, in one 
of those sudden changes of temper that had 
become customary with me of late, I burst out 
laughing, and gayly took my place at the table. 

“ We ’ll talk when I have eaten, my dear 
cure ; I am half dead with hunger.” 


228 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


^^And I have hardly anything to give 
you ! ” 

^‘Why, there are beans yonder, and I 
adore beans ! and your home-made bread is 
delicious.” 

^^But you have not come by yourself, 
Keine ? ” 

^^Yes, now I think of it, you are right. 
The housekeeper is perched up in the car- 
riage, behind the church. Send for her, M. le 
Cur6, and tell some one to pick up my hat, 
which is taking a stroll in the garden.” 

The good cure passed out to give his or- 
ders, and, on his return, sat down opposite me. 
While I was eating, with a tolerable appetite, 
in spite of the state of my lungs and of my 
bitter woes, he forgot the use of knife and 
fork altogether, and was gazing at me with an 
admiration he vainly tried to conceal. 

You tliink I have grown handsomer than 
ever, do you not, M. le Cure ? ” 

“Well — somewhat, Eeine.” 

“ Ah, my dear cure, if I went to confession 
now, what big sins I should have to tell you ! 
Not at all like the little ones of other days, 
which you know all about.” 

And, all the time doing full justice to my 
repast, I related my vain pleasures, my emo- 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 229 

tions, toilets, and new ideas. He laughed, 
took snuff uninterruptedly, with his old air of 
enjoyment, and kept his eyes fixed on me, with 
never a thought of scolding me, certainly, en- 
tering his head. 

Am I not on the straight road to perdi- 
tion, M. le Cure ? ’’ 

I do not think so, my child. You can- 
not be blamed for being young while you ’re 
young.” 

“ Young, my poor cure ? Ah, if you could 
but see into the depths of my soul ! I wrote 
to you that I was now nothing but a skeleton, 
and it is so true ! ” 

You don’t look it, at all events.” 

We ’ll talk about that in a moment, M. le 
Cure, and you ’ll see ! ” 

When I could eat no more, the servant 
cleared the table, lit a blazing fire, and we sat 
down, each in a corner of the fireplace. 

And now let us have a serious conversa- 
tion, E;eine. What have you to tell me ? ” 

I thrust out my little foot to the flame and 
answered calmly : 

M. le Cure, I am dying.” 

The cure, a little startled, abruptly shut the 
snuff-box, into which he was just about to in- 
troduce his fingers. 


230 MY UNCLE AND MY CUR^:. 

“No one would think so to look at you, my 
child.’’ 

“ What ? do you not mark the heaviness of 
my eyes, the wanness of my lips ? ” 

“ Why, Reine, your lips are ruddy and your 
face is fairly blooming with health. But of 
what are you dying ? ” 

Before answering, I looked around, know- 
ing full well I was on the verge of giving 
utterance to a word to which the wretched 
walls of this modest apartment had never 
reechoed ; a word so strange that the vener- 
able and springless clock that stood in a 
corner, and the pious pictures hanging on the 
walls, on hearing it, would probably come 
tumbling down on this devoted head, in a 
transport of surprise and indignation. 

“ Well, Reine ? ” 

“ Well, M. le Cure, I am dying of love ! ” 
The clock, the pictures, the furniture, all 
retained their impassive attitude, and the cure 
only gave an almost imperceptible start. 

“I was sure of it,” said he, passing his 
hand through his hair and ruffling it in the old 
style, “ I was sure of it ! Your imagination 
has been up to its old tricks again, Reine ! ” 

“ It is not my imagination but my heart that 
is in question, since I am in love, M. le Cure ! ” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 231 

And you so young ! such a child ! ” 

Is that a reason ? I repeat I am dying of 
love, of love for M. de Conprat ! ” 

Hum ! so it ’s he, is it ? ” 

^^Am I a flighty girl, a mere weathercock, 
M. le Cure ? ” 1 cried with indignation. 

But then, Beine, instead of dying, would 
it not be better to marry him ? ’’ 

That would be the logical conclusion, a 
conclusion in every way logical, M. le Cure ; 
but, unfortunately, he does not care for me.” 

This assertion seemed to him so extraordi- 
nary that, for a time, he was too astounded to 
be able to utter a word. 

It is not possible ! ” he said at length, in 
a tone of such conviction that I could not 
help laughing. 

Kot only does he not love me, but he loves 
another. He is smitten with Blanche, and 
has asked her in marriage.” 

I recounted what had happened a few days 
ago at Pavol : my discoveries, my blindness, 
and Juno’s hesitation. I wept bitterly at the 
end of the narrative, for my grief was very 
real. 

The cure, who was undecided until then as 
to whether he should take my words and 
troubles seriously, looked the very picture of 


232 MY UNCLE AND MY CUEE. 


consternation. He drew liis chair close by 
mine, took my hand, and endeavored to reason 
with me. 

Your cousin hesitates, you say ? Then 
perhaps the marriage will not take place.” 

What difference does that make, since he 
loves her ? Ho one ever loves twice.” 

It sometimes happens, my dear child.” 

I won’t believe it ; it would be too fright- 
ful ! I am very unfortunate, my poor cure.” 

Have you told your uncle ? ” 

^^Ho, but he has guessed my thoughts. 
What good can his knowing it do, anyway ? 
He cannot compel Paul to love me and forget 
his daughter. Besides, I would not for the 
world have Paul know anything ; I would 
rather die ! ” 

A long silence followed this revelation of 
my pride. We gazed into the fire, like two 
harmless little fortune-tellers, anxious to read 
the secrets of the future in the flame and the 
burning coals. 

But the flames and the coals were dumb, 
and I was weeping silently, when the cure 
resumed, with a half smile : 

Yet he bears no resemblance to either 
Francis I. or Buckingham ! ” 

Ah, M. le Cure,” I answered spiritedly. 


]VIY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 233 


if Francis I. and Buckingham were here 
now, they would be nothing loth to fall in 
love with me, and nothing would please me 
better, either.” 

Hum ! ” 

The cure evidently thought this reply any- 
thing but orthodox, and subject to demoral- 
izing interpretations. He abandoned hastily 
the topic he had just touched on, bristling as 
it was with dangers, and preached resignation 
instead. 

^^Just only think how young you are, 
Eeine ! This trial will pass, and you have a 
long life before you.” 

I am not of a resigned disposition, M. le 
Cure, and you may as well know it. If I live, 
it is my determination never to marry ; but 
I shall not live, I am consumptive; listen !” 

And I tried to force up a hollow cough. 
This is no subject for jesting, Keine. 
Thank God, you are in fine health ! ” 

There ’s no use in me talking,” I said, 
rising, I see you don’t want to believe me. 
Let us take advantage of this fine weather, 
and of the last few moments of life left me, 
and pay a visit to Le Buisson, M. le Cure.” 

We strolled along towards my old home, 
under a pleasant Kovember sun, infinitely 


234 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


less genial and warming tlian the affection of 
my cure and the sight of his kindly face, 
which had become quite rosy since my arrival. 
It was a pleasure in itself to watch his hair 
as it tossed about in the wind, his nimble 
gait, his joyous, lusty figure, and to recall 
the time when I had looked out for him so 
often through a window in the corridor, while 
the rain lashed the panes and the wind roared 
and whistled through the dilapidated doors 
of the old mansion. 

After a visit to Suzon and Perrine I 
rambled over the house from top to bottom. 
In good truth, the real measurement of time 
is not the number of days that may have 
elapsed, but the number and acuteness of our 
perceptions. Just only a few weeks before, 
I had abandoned this tumble-down barracks, 
and if any one had told me that since then 
several years had glided over my head I 
should have accepted the statement as en- 
tirely correct. 

I dragged the cure into the garden. Poor 
old wilderness ! It reminded me of some 
melancholy days, and yet I had a certain 
feeling of pleasure in wandering through it 
again. 

And besides, it carried my thoughts back 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 235 

to some delightful hours — hours the memory 
of which still had a charm for me, notwith- 
standing the bitter disappointment that had 
followed a moment’s happiness. 

You recollect, M. le Cure ? ” said I, point- 
ing to the cherry tree Paul had climbed. 

Try to think of something else, Eeine.” 

“ But how can I, M. le Cure ? If you 
knew how fond I am of him ! He has not a 
single fault, I assure you ! ” 

Once I had started on this subject there 
was no power, human or superhuman, that 
could stop me, particularly as I was com- 
pelled at Pavol to hide my feelings. I spoke 
so long that I almost made the poor cure 
light-headed. 

We passed the evening gossiping and argu- 
ing. The cure exhausted his oratorical powers 
in the effort to prove to me that resignation 
is one of the most precious and most easily 
acquired of virtues. 

My good cure,” I answered impressively 
you do not know what love is.” 

Believe me, Beiiie, you can easily forget 
this trial and get the best of it, if you have a 
mind to. You are so young ! ” 

So young! — he always wound up with 
that. As if a person did not suffer as much 


236 MY UKCLE AND MY CURE. 

at sixteen as at any age whatever ! These old 
men take away one’s breath ! 

On my side, I kept on repeating, gravely 
shaking my head the while. 

Yon do not understand, M. le Cur4, you 
do not understand ! ” 

The next day, while we were walking in 
the garden, I said : 

“ M. le Cure, I was turning an idea over in 
my mind last night.” 

Well, let us have your idea, little one.” 

‘‘ I should like you to have the parish of 
Pavol.” 

But I cannot oust another priest from his 
place, Heine.” 

The pastor of Pavol is as old as the hills, 
M. le Cure, and he is aging faster and faster 
every day. I am noting the signs of his 
increasing debility with tender solicitude. 
Would you not like to succeed him ? ” 

^^Well — yes; though I should feel some 
regret at leaving my present parish. I have 
been here thirty-five years, and, naturally, I 
am now very much attached to it.” 

Now ? Then you have not always liked 
it?” 

No, Heine. You are aware that it is a 
rather melancholy spot. Perhaps it has never 


]vr? UNCLE AND MY CURE. 237 


occurred to you that I was once young. My 
dreams were not then precisely the same as 
yours, my dear child, but I should have liked 
an active life ; I should have liked to see and 
hear a great many things, for I was not with- 
out brains, and I yearned for certain intel- 
lectual resources which I have always missed 
obtaining. Then, before you came into my 
life, I had no friend or confidant near me. 
But we can rise superior to ennui and every 
other trouble, Reine, when we try to do so 
with our whole heart and soul. I was very 
happy for a long time until you left Le Buis- 
son. I had forgotten the sad, dreary days of 
my youth.’’ 

The good cur4 looked straight before him, 
somewhat dreamily, and I who had always 
seen him so meriy and contented, and who 
had never for a moment thought it possible 
that there might have been a sorrowful period 
in his existence, — I was moved to the very 
depths of my heart in presence of a resigna- 
tion so true and gentle and unembittered. 

^^You are a saint, my dear cure,” I said, 
taking lys hand. 

Tut, tut, my dear child, don’t talk non- 
sense ! I have suffered from certain limita- 
tions that affect all my brethren whose minds 


238 MY UNCLE AND MY CUREl. 

are youthful and active. I have talked to 
you on this subject with the view of bringing 
home to you the fact that everything can be 
endured, and that happiness, and even gayety, 
can be recovered when our trials are past, 
provided we have endured them coura- 
geously.” 

I understood very well, but it was so much 
breath spent in vain. I was too young not 
to be very positive in my convictions, and I 
naturally believed that there is no sorrow in 
the world to be at all compared to an unre- 
quited affection. 

Should the parish of Pavol ever become 
vacant, Reine, I should like to go there ; but, 
of course, such a change cannot depend on 
me.” 

‘‘Yes, I know that, but my uncle has great 
influence with the bishop and can easily 
arrange the matter.” 

The cure was my escort as far as C — . 

When he saw me seated in my uncle’s ele- 
gant landau he cried : 

“ How glad I am to see you in your proper 
place at last, my little Reine ! That car- 
riage agrees better with you than Jean’s 
carryall.” 

“ You will soon be coming to see me in a 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 239 


fine chateau,” I answered. I am going to 
offer up a novena ‘ for the purpose of obtain- 
ing the cure of PavoPs translation to heaven 
as speedily as possible. I am obeying strictly 
the precepts of charity in doing so, for he 
is old and suffering. You ’ll have a beautiful 
church, M. le Cure, and a pulpit, a real great 
big pulpit ! ” 

The horses started and I leaned forward to 
get a view of my old cur4 as long as I could. 
He was making friendly signs to me, and he 
had quite forgotten to put on his hat, for a 
joyful hope had found a lodgment in his 
heart. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

T he salutary effect the cure’s visit had 
on me was but short-lived ; I soon be- 
came as despondent as ever, and my uncle, 
while inwardly cursing and swearing at 
women, especially when they happened to be 
nieces, and reviling their wrongheadedness 
and caprices generally, spoke of taking 
Blanche and me to Paris 'with the view of 
distracting my mind, some way or other, 

1 A nine-days’ devotion used by Catholics for the purpose of 
obtaining some special grace from Q-od. — TV. 


240 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 

when, luckily, certain events outstripped his 
best-laid plans. 

Some days before the time I am speaking 
of, M. de Pavol received a letter from a 
friend requesting permission to introduce 
one of his cousins, a M. de Kerveloch, ex- 
attache to an embassy. My uncle gave a 
cordial reply, saying he should be delighted 
to receive M. de Kerveloch, and inviting him 
to luncheon, with never a suspicion that he 
was paving the way for the advent of a crisis 
that was to overturn his fondest ambitions 
and quicken once again all my hopes of hap- 
piness. 

On the third day following — good reason 
have I for enshrining that immortal day 
eternally in my memory — the weather was 
abominable. 

As usual, we were all assembled in the 
parlor. Blanche was musing near the fire, 
and her answers to M. de Conprat were con- 
fined to monosyllables. That headstrong lover 
had not been able to endure his exile, and had 
appeared again on the scene, just forty-eight 
hours previously. My uncle was reading his 
newspaper, and I had taken refuge in a recess 
of one of the windows. 

At one moment I was feverishly occupied 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 241 


with my needlework, for needlework is my 
passion, at another, gazing at the murky sky 
and the^'rain which fell continuously. I 
listened to the roaring of the wind — that 
Kovember wind that shrieks so dismally. I 
felt weary, gloomy, and had not the slightest 
premonition of that happiness in the future 
which was now speeding towards me at as 
rattling a pace as could be made by two fine 
horses. 

From time to time I stole a glance at Paul. 
His eyes were riveted on Blanche with an ex- 
pression that made me want to strangle him. 

^^How silly he looks,” I thought, ^‘with 
those motionless, staring, stupid eyes of his ! 
Ah, yes ! but were I in Blanche’s place, were 
he to fix his eyes on me as he has them fixed 
on her, I should regard him as charming, more 
attractive than ever. Oh, how absurd and 
inconsistent we poor mortals be ! ” 

And I plied my needle with such wrathful 
violence that it broke in the middle. 

At that moment the noise of a carriage 
approaching the chateau came to our ears. My 
uncle folded his paper. Juno listened eagerly 
and said, A visitor ! ” A few moments 
later my uncle’s friend and the attach^ were 
in the room. 


242 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


I cannot account for the fact that I had 
always associated an attach^ with old age and 
baldness. But M. de Kerveloch wal^ neither 
old nor bald, and, except Francis I., as depicted 
in his portrait, I had never seen a man before 
with such a splendid physique. 

As soon as he entered, the thought came 
into my mind that that fine head of his enter- 
tained some ideas connected with matrimony. 
He was about thirty, and so tall that Paul 
seemed quite a pigmy beside him. He had 
an intellectual and decidedly haughty expres- 
sion ; indeed, no one, after giving him a second 
glance, would be inclined to crown him with 
a halo of sanctity. He was rather cold, but 
courteous almost to excess, and his high-bred 
ways and ease of manner vanquished Blanche 
on the spot. 

M. de Kerveloch regarded her with evident 
admiration, and, when he rose to take leave 
and stood beside her, I noticed, with secret 
delight, that it would be impossible to find a 
better matched pair. 

Every one, I fancy, must have thought the 
same, for when Paul left us his face wore a 
look of utter gloom. Juno played, ten times 
in succession, the last piece composed by 
Weber, or something equally tiresome, a 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 243 


clear proof, in her case, that her mind was far 
away, while my uncle examined both of us by 
turns with an expression that was both anxious 
and sarcastic. 

M. de Kerveloch came to lunch the next 
day ; three days afterwards he was a suitor 
for Blanche’s hand, and, when two weeks had 
elapsed, I wrote to my cure : 

“ My dear cure, man is a fickle, wayward, 
capricious little animal; a weathercock, en- 
tirely at the beck of his imagination or of 
circumstances. When I say man ” I wish 
you to understand I am speaking of humanity 
in genera], for the person who addresses you 
is to-day the little animal in question. 

I am no longer in a state of despair, and 
am not at all anxious to die, my good cure. 
I have just discovered that the sun has 
renewed his splendor ; that it is not unlikely 
the future may have a store of happiness 
treasured up for me; that the universe does 
well to continue its revolutions, and that the 
Creator never invented anything more stupid 
than death. 

Blanche is to be married, M. le Cure ! 
Blanche is to be married to Comte de Kerve- 
loch ! Ye gods ! how well they suit each 
other ! And she was within an atom, an ace, 


244 MY UKCLE AND MY CURB. 


an inch, of accepting M. de Conprat — a 
man she did not love and whom she fonnd 
fault with for eating too much ! Eating too 
much, indeed ! Did yon ever hear of any- 
thing so absurd ? Is it not the right thing 
to eat heartily when yon have a good 
appetite ? 

^^If yon ask me why it is that such ex- 
traordinary changes have occurred at Pavol 
I am afraid I can hardly answer yon. I am 
bewildered about everything, but I can tell 
you this much : One fine day, one sunny day 
— but that is n’t true, the rain was coming 
down in torrents — one day, I repeat, M. de 
Kerveloch came here with a friend of my 
uncle. As soon as I saw him I guessed he 
was revolving some idea in his head ; I guessed, 
too, that he was likely to find favor in 
Blanche’s eyes, for he was just the sort of 
husband she was always dreaming about 
M. de Kerveloch looked at her in a way that 
showed he was a man who knew how to appre- 
ciate beauty, and, some days afterwards, he 
solicited the honor of her hand — to adopt 
the language of my uncle and of etiquette. 

^^Jnno, thereupon, lost her ordinary com- 
posure, and declared warmly that ^ never had 
she been so pleased with any fair knight as 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 245 


slie was with this one, and that she was re- 
solved to dismiss M. de Conprat/ 

And now you have it all, my dear cure. 
I have made the matter, I hope, clear and 
simple. Ever since then I dream by the 
light of the stars, as I used to do of old ; I 
give free rein to my imagination and send it 
galloping along until it is fairly tired out, 
and I dance round my room when I am quite 
alone ! Ah, my dear cure, I can’t tell w^hy, 
but to-day I love you ten times more than 
ever. Never has that dear face worn such a 
smiling aspect, never has your affection for 
me appeared so touching, so worthy of my 
love, and never has your beautiful white hair 
looked so charming in my eyes. 

To-day the leafless woods wore a robe of 
verdant foliage, the gray skies were really a 
deep blue, and, all of .a sudden, my imagina- 
tion and I became friends once more. I shall 
repent, during the whole course of my life, 
of the shameful way in which I treated her 
the other day. She is a fairy, my dear cure, 
a fairy of infinite charm, a fairy instinct with 
power and with poetry, and when she touches 
the ugliest things with her magic wand they 
take on the coloring of her own beauty. 

What a changeable creature the little an- 


246 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

imal is, really ! — I cannot get over my as- 
tonishment. What is the source of our joys 
and hopes? Why should we ever despair, 
when things can fall into their places with- 
out any interference on our side ? And yet, 
how can I feel so happy when my future is 
still undecided and when I reflect that no one 
can love twice during life ? Ah, my dear 
cure, in what a state of chaos everything is !. 
— nothing but mystery in this world ; the 
soul is an unfathomable abyss. I rather 
think some one has said this before me ; in- 
deed, for all I know, I may have read it no 
later than yesterday, but I am quite intelli- 
gent enough to have given birth to such a 
thought myself. 

However, when my excitement cools 
down, those pleasant fancies of mine are 
seized with an irresistible panic ; they break 
away, fly off at a tangent, are scattered in all 
directions, and I find it often impossible to 
catch hold of them again. For, do what I 
may, he loves her ! Oh, M. le Cure, he loves 
her ! Loves her ! What an odious phrase, 
used as I am using it now ! 

“ You told me, M. le Cure, that it is not 
altogether unusual for a man to be in love 
twice in his life ; but are you sure ? Is it 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 247 

your downright conviction ? Love, it has 
been said, engenders love ; do you think, if 
he were to know my secret, he would love 
me ? You have much common sense, M. le 
Cure ; do you not believe, then, conventional- 
ities to be idiotic ? Probably, all that is 
needed to make me happy for life is simply 
a confession on my side, and, lo and behold ! 
in march certain laws, invented by some 
wiseacre or other, and prevent me from obey- 
ing my inclination, disclosing my secret 
thoughts and revealing my love to him I 
love ! To be candid, there is something also 
at the bottom of my own heart that would 
force me to keep silence, and — did I not tell 
you the soul is an unfathomable abyss ? My 
dear cur4, I can see a procession of darksome 
ideas making its way towards me. My stars, 
but does n’t it take little to unsettle this poor 
human nature of ours ! 

Doubtless ideas alter with circumstances. 
My uncle even goes so far as to say that the 
fools are the only people who never change 
their, opinions. But is it the same with the 
heart as with the head ? 

Make this point clear to me, my dear cure.” 

When M. de Pavol had once decided on 
any plan there was no beating about the 


248 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 

bush in his case ; it had to be executed at the 
earliest possible date. Acting on this prin- 
ciple, he determined that the marriage of 
Blanche should be celebrated on the fifteenth 
of January. 

Although he was considerably disappointed, 
he did not care to thwart his daughter’s 
inclination, especially as he had discovered 
my love for Paul. He was honest and fair- 
minded, and was too generous to cling to his 
own wishes very obstinately when they stood 
in the way of his niece’s happiness. 

As for Paul, he bore his misfortune coura- 
geously. Like the diminutive person who 
loved him so fondly, without his ever suspect- 
ing it, he had not the slightest desire of 
revenge. I am in a position to bear witness 
that he had never entertained any idea of 
poisoning his rival or cutting his throat in 
gentlemanly fashion in a corner of some 
lonely and poetic wood. 

When he knew he must give up all hope 
he came to see us, accompanied by the major, 
and offered Blanche his hand, saying, in a 
tone of evident sincerity : 

Cousin, I desire only your happiness, and 
I hope we shall remain* good friends.” 

But, although he behaved with a propriety 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUBE. 249 


and honesty that are not often found except 
on the stage, he suffered deeply. His visits 
to Pavol became very rare. When I saw 
him I noticed that he was changed morally 
and physically. 

Then I wept again many bitter tears in 
secret, and felt violently angry with him 
besides. He ought to have fallen in love 
with me, according to all the rules of logic ! 
Surely, he should see that our two natures 
were in extraordinary harmony, and that I 
loved him to distraction ! 

In good truth, if men always acted accord- 
ing to the rules of logic the world would not 
be at all the worse for it, and we should have 
a higher type of humanity before long. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

O N the 15th of January we had splendid 
weather, although the day was pierc- 
ingly cold. The country with its covering of 
hoar frost presented a fairy -like aspect. J uno 
was extremely pale, and looked so beautiful 
in her white robes that I could not keep my 
eyes off her. I compared her to the cold and 
magnificent landscape whose dazzling white- 
ness seemed in unison with her beauty. 


250 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


After breakfast she retired to her room co 
change her dress. She came downstairs in a 
state of great emotion. We all embraced her, 
and were very much affected also, and then — 
hey, for Italy ! 

All these emotions that had been throng- 
ing on me of late wore me out, and 1 yearned 
for solitude. Leaving my uncle, then, to get 
along with his guests as best he could, I 
wrapped myself in a wUrnily-lined cloak and 
made for a certain place in the park which 
had a particular charm for me. 

This park was crossed by a narrow and 
rapid river. At a certain point in its course 
it widened and formed a cascade which a skil- 
ful arrangement of stones had made high and 
picturesque. A few yards from the cascade 
a tree had fallen, the foot resting on one steep 
bank and the head on the other. For some 
time no one noticed it, and when, in the fol- 
lowing spring, my uncle visited it, intending 
to have it removed, he discovered, by the vig- 
orous branches that were growing the whole 
length of the trunk, that there was plenty of 
life in it. He ordered another tree to be 
placed beside the first, their branches to be 
intertwined, vines to be planted to run along 
the two stumps, and in course of time the 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 251 

branches and vines became so thick that my 
uncle had a rustic and unique bridge which 
could be crossed with no greater danger than 
that of getting entangled in the branches and 
falling into the water. 

This was the lonely spot, which was at a 
considerable distance from the chateau, that 
I had chosen as the theatre of my meditations. 
I halted near the frost-covered bridge in order 
to reflect on the future and admire the enor- 
mous icicles hanging from the cascade, which 
the ice had arrested in its course. 

I do not know how long T was absorbed in 
my reflections, never taking thought of the 
cold that nipped my face, when I saw the 

object of my tenderness,’’ as Madame Cottin ’ 
would say, advancing towards me. 

And a very melancholy and ill-tempered 
object he seemed. With a cane which in a 
moment of distraction he had lately stolen 
from my uncle he was whacking energetically 
at the trees that happened to come in his way, 
and the white dust that covered them was 
scattered all over him. 

I half turned my back on him, but it is a 
matter of public notoriety that women have 

1 The authoress of “ Elizabeth; or, the Exiles of Siberia,” a 
sentimental novel very popular over half a century ago. — Tr- 


252 MY UNCLE AND MY CUJRE. 

eyes behind them, and I did not lose a single 
one of his movements. 

When he was near me he crossed his arms 
and gazed at the motionless cascade, the trees, 
and the bridge, but did not open his mouth. 

Apparently engaged in stripping a little 
pine branch I had just broken off, I held my 
breath and looked at him askance, without 
any suspicion on his part that he was under 
observation. 

Cousin ’’ — he began. 

Is that you, cousin ? ” I returned, and 
waited for him to finish what he had to say. 
But, seeing he was not inclined to go on, I 
condescended to turn half round again and 
face the speaker in order to encourage him. 

He frowned and cried out violently : 

I have a mind to blow my brains out ! ” 
Very well,’’ said I dryly, I will go to 
your funeral.” 

This answer so astonished him that he 
dropped his arms and stared at me. 

You would not prevent me from commit- 
ting suicide, cousin ? ” 

Certainly not,” I replied tranquilly. 

Why should I interfere in a matter that 
does not concern me ? I rather like to have 
my own freedom, and if you long to quit this 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 253 


valley of tears, why should I lift a finger to 
hinder you ? Let every one act in this life as 
pleases him- best ! ’’ 

Upon which I became once more engrossed 
by my pine branch, while the object of my 
tenderness, disconcerted by the broad-minded 
fashion in which I regarded his doleful pur- 
pose, looked rather discomfited. 

“ I thought you had a little affection for 
me, fair cousin. The first time you saw me 
you found me so amusing ! ’’ 

Alas ! good cousin, what value could any 
one attach to the commendation of a little 
rustic whose only companions were a cure, a 
scolding aunt, and a surly cook ? ’’ 

That means you were favorably inclined 
towards me because I was not a cure and my 
face was not as withered as that of Madame 
de Lavalle ? ” 

You have hit the truth exactly, fair 
cousin.’’ 

He looked at me furiously, twisting his 
mustache wrathfully, and seizing his hat in 
his ill humor he hurled it on the bridge. 
Ah, how well I understood every emotion of 
his soul ! He was delighted to find any 
excuse for grumbling and was venting his 
anger and disappointment on me, just as I 


254 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


had vented mine on the little terra-cotta 
statuettes and the unlucky Baron Maltour. 

Your aunt was a horrible old woman, 
mademoiselle/’ he said abruptly. 

“ My fine eyes were a compensation for her, 
monsieur,” I answered with equal bliintness. 

“ And such a table ! and such a set of 
dishes ! Were n’t they grand ! And every- 
thing where it ought n’t to be ! ” 

Yes, but then, the turkey ! How is it 
you ’re alive ? I was dead sure an indigestion 
had carried you off, and you can conceive my 
amazement when I met you here, as large as 
life ! ” 

“ I know it is useless trying to have the 
last word with you, mademoiselle. Still, 
when all is said, I have not proved, such a 
very bad cousin. What harm have I ever 
done you ? ” 

“Hone that I know of, I am sure. And, 
as a proof of my good feeling I have made 
you a promise to follow your body to its last 
home.” 

“ My body ? ” he cried, with a shiver. 
“ I ’m not yet dead, mademoiselle. I may as 
well inform you that I have not the slightest 
intention of killing myself and that I am on 
the point of starting for Kussia.” 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 255 


I wish yon a pleasant journey, cousin.” 

He walked olf, and, thinking of the length 
of time that might elapse before I should set 
eyes on him again, I wrung my hands in 
despair, and 'big tears were beginning to roll 
down my cheeks, when I saw him coming 
back at a run. 

Come, now, Reine, why should you and I 
quarrel ? Why should there be any bicker — 
What ! you are crying ? ” 

I was thinking of Juno,” I answered, 
speaking in a natural tone, though with an 
effort. 

I see, my little cousin ; you will be quite 
alone now. You’ll shake hands with me, 
won’t you ? ” 

Willingly, Paul.” 

Alas ! he did not kiss my hand, but took 
hold of it in a very melancholy fashion. He 
was thinking of a hand he had once hoped 
would be his. 

And he left me, and did not return a second 
time. 

In spite of the cold, to which I did not 
pay the slightest attention, I sat down near 
the bridge and wept, and, leaning over the 
river, I saw my tears falling on the ice. 

^^When he talks of blowing his brains 


256 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

out,” I said to myself, liis affection for her 
must be boundless ! I am well aware he 
won’t do anything of the kind, but he is 
probably as much enamored of her as I am 
of him, and I feel absolutely certain it would 
be impossible for me ever to forget him. Is 
it not stupid of him to fall in love with a 
woman who is the exact opposite of him in 
every respect, while near him he has a 
little ” — 

What are you doing there, Reine ? ” said 
my uncle, who was quite close to me before I 
had the slightest idea of his presence, for I 
had not heard his footsteps. 

I rose quickly, ashamed at not being able 
to conceal my emotion. 

What ! you are crying ? ” 

‘‘ Uncle, are n’t men stupid ? ” 

What you say is undoubtedly true, niece. 
Is that the reason I find you in tears ? ” 

Paul has a mind to blow out his brains,” 
said I, sobbing. 

“ Do you think him the sort of person to 
go to such extremes as that ? ” 

“ No,” I answered, smiling in spite of my 
tears. “ That would not be like him at all. 
But the mere idea of such a thing having 
entered his head proves that ” — 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 257 


Oh, yes, I know what you mean. The 
idea proves that he still loves iny daughter. 
But believe me, he will forget her very 
speedily, and, when he returns, we ’ll take 
good care that his heart does not go straying 
any more.’’ 

“ But do you really believe, uncle, a man 
can love twice in his life without being a 
monster ? ” 

M. de Pavol patted my cheek and looked 
at me with a pity that was as much a tribute 
to my inexperience as to my distress. 

“ My poor little niece, the men who love 
but once in their lives are as rare as white 
blackbirds.” 

“ Then, uncle, man is an odious animal ! ” 
I said in a tone of conviction. 

But I was as jubilant as I was indignant, 
and I asked for nothing better than to turn 
the wickedness inherent in human nature to 
account. 

Yet Juno is so beautiful ! ” 

Look at yonder bridge to which you are so 
much attached, Eeine. Before the branches 
and plants that cover it have renewed their 
verdure Paul will have forgotten her ; before 
the leaves have turned sere and fallen anew 
he will be back at Pavol, and ” — 


258 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


He smiled significantly, then went off, leav- 
ing the sentence unfinished ; and, utterly be- 
wildered, I followed his footsteps with my 
eyes, saying to myself that uncles who fore- 
tell the future with such assurance are truly 
very singular personages. 

“ It is all very well,’’ I thought, returning 
slowly homeward, but what if his heart 
should change and he should become smit- 
ten with some woman or other in his 
travels ? And now I remember hearing that 
Russian women are very beautiful ! He must 
be prevailed on to spend the time he is away 
among the Esquimaux ! ” 

I took to my heels immediately, and 
reached the door of the chateau just at the 
very moment the major was getting into his 
carriage. 

I seized his arm and drew him aside. 

Major, is Paul about to set out for 
Russia ? ” 

Yes ; the matter is settled.” 

‘‘ I have been thinking — if you have no 
objection — that, on the whole, — I was 
thinking — it would be better if ” — 
Decidedly it was harder than I thought. 
My pride stood in the way, and was telling 
me to keep silence. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 259 


“ Come, my dear child, out with what you 
have to say ; I am freezing here.” 

“ The die is cast ! ” I cried violently, stamp- 
ing on the ground. 

My pride and I were now across the Rubi- 
con, and I said, lowering my eyes : 

Dear major, I entreat you to advise Paul 
to travel among the Esquimaux.” 

And why among the Esquimaux ? ” 

Because the women of that country are 
frights,” I stammered ; and Russian women 
are very beautiful.” 

The good major raised my face, now crim- 
son with confusion, and said simply : 

Your request is granted ; I will advise 
Paul to travel among the Esquimaux.” 

How I love you ! ” I said, with tears in 
my eyes, as I pressed his hand. But tell 
him not to stay long in the huts of these 
people ; he might be laid up with illness ; the 
odor, I have been told, is unendurable.” 

And, seeing my uncle coming towards us, T 
fled, saying: 

“ Major, a man of honor has only his word ; 
be faithful to yours ! ” 

, I entered my room, laboring under the 
exceedingly unpleasant conviction that I had 
imitated the government to perfection, and 


260 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


had trampled under my feet every principle 
of dignity. But, pshaw ! the only way to get 
out of a difficulty is to help yourself. This 
reflection quieted my scruples. I sat down 
before my desk and wrote : 

“ All is over, M. le Cure ! They are 
married ; they went away, evidently in a 
state of rapture, and I would have given ten 
years of my life to be in Juno’s place with 
one you know of. Shall I ever reach such 
good fortune ? 

“Do you know what my uncle has been 
telling me ? He says that men who love 
only once in their lives are as rare as white 
blackbirds. My dear, dear cure, I beseech 
you, when you say mass to-morrow, to offer 
it with the intention of keeping M. de Con- 
prat from becoming a white blackbird.” 

“ Good-by, M. le Cur4 ; I hope to see you 
soon in your parish of Pavol ! ” 


CHAPTER XIX. 

A XD, indeed, the only event of any im- 
portance that occurred towards the 
close of the winter was the installation of 
the cure into the parish of Pavol, and it is 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 261 

unnecessary to allude to our happiness on 
finding ourselves together again, especially as 
there was no longer any danger of a separa- 
tion in the near future. 

It was the renewal of a by-gone pleasure to 
see him ascending his pulpit and preaching, 
with beaming face, on the iniquity of man- 
kind. After service he would come to the 
chateau, just as he used to do at Le Buisson, 
his soutane tucked up, his hat under his arm, 
and his hair streaming in the wind. 

We resumed our conversations, our discus- 
sions, and our quarrels. The time hung 
very heavy on my hands, and Juno’s letters, 
breathing as they did the most perfect happi- 
ness, were not calculated to set my heart 
at ease or arm me with patience. And so 
I was continually running after my cure 
and confiding to him my cares, anxieties, 
and hopes, as well as my feelings of rebel- 
lion against the suspense I was forced to 
endure. 

I knew, alas ! that my object ” had not 
taken kindly to the notion of going among 
the Esquimaux. He was quietly ram- 
bling about in the streets of St. Petersburg, 
and the thought of the beautiful Bussian 
ladies troubled me terribly. 


262 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 


Are you sure lie will not fall in love with 
a Eussian, M. le Cure ? ’’ 

‘‘ We must hope so, at least, Eeine.” 

Hope so ? Pray give a plain answer to 
a plain question, M. le Cure. What do you 
think ? Oh, it is not possible he could fall 
in love with a foreigner ! Do tell me, my 
dear cure, that it is not possible, and tell me, 
too, that he is sure to love me some day or 
other.” 

“ I ardently hope so, my poor child ; but it 
would be better to expect the contrary and 
try to be resigned to it.” 

You and your resignation will drive me 
crazy, my dear cure.” 

Ah, Eeine, I am afraid you have very 
little wisdom ! ” 

Wisdom in my opinion consists in wish- 
ing to be happy. Tell me that he will love 
me, my cure ; do so, I beseech you ! ” 

Why, there is nothing in the world could 
give me more pleasure than his loving you, 
my dear child,” answered the cure, who, in 
spite of his terror of physical suffering, would, 
I really think, have followed the example of 
Mucius Scsevola and burned his right hand, 
were the sacrifice necessary to ensure my 
happiness. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CUBE. 263 

Nevertlieless, in spite of my satisfaction at 
having my cure so near to me, in spite of the 
kindness of my uncle and all those around me, 
I became very sad. 

I grew fond of solitary rambles in the 
wood, or of lingering whole hours by the 
cascade, dwelling on our last interview, won- 
dering what I should do if he stood before 
me, gay and charming, his eyes shining with 
that expression which had so delighted me at 
Le Buisson, but which had never afterwards 
shone for me ! 

This fondness for solitude developed daily, 
and my melancholy in proportion. At length 
I gradually lost all my former relish for talk- 
ing, and if M. de Pavol had not been already 
convinced of the depth of my love this faot 
alone would have proved it to him. 

Six months slipped by in this fashion. 

One day — it was the anniversary of my 
arrival at Pavol — I was seated in the garden 
of the presbytery. Two hours before, a rain- 
storm had cooled the atmosphere and watered 
the cure’s flowers. He was finding amuse- 
ment in a hunt after snails, while I, feeling in 
a pleasant state of mind at the time, leaned 
my head against the wall near the bench on 
which I was sitting, and occupied my fancy 


264 MY ITNCLE AND MY CURE. 

with joyous anticipations. The falling of the 
raindrops, which were bending the leaves 
under their weight, alone disturbed my medi- 
tations, and the odor of the damp earth re- 
minded me of the pleasantest hours of my 
life. 

Now and then, the cure said : 

The number of snails is really astonish- 
ing ! Just think, E-eine ! I have found more 
than five hundred ! ’’ 

I raised my head carelessly and smiled at 
the good cure, who was eagerly continuing 
his search. Then I fell anew into my reve- 
ries and, at last, into a sort of slumber. 

I was awakened by the creaking of the 
garden gate, and the sound of a merry voice 
I knew caused me the most violent agitation 
I have ever experienced in my whole life. 

Good-day, my dear cure, how goes it ? I 
canT tell you how glad I am to see you. 
Where ’s Eeine ? ” 

Reine was still in the same place, unable 
to speak or move. 

Ah, there she is ! ’’ cried Paul, striding 
towards me at a great rate. ^‘My dear 
cousin, it would be impossible to express my 
delight at meeting you again.” 

He seized my hand and kissed it. 


My UNCLE AND MY CURE. 265 

I declare, with all solemnity, that what 
followed was totally independent of my will 
and should not give rise to ill-natured suppo- 
sitions. And I declare, with still more 
solemnity, that I struggled against the 
temptation, but when I felt his kiss on my 
hand, when I knew that this act was not in- 
spired by a mere commonplace gallantry, but 
by a sentiment far more profound, when he 
leaned over me, gazing at me with an expres- 
sion that was at once anxious, affectionate, 
and singular, an expression a hundred times 
more enchanting than any I had ever 
dreamed of, — I could not help it, and fate, 
in which I have ever since believed, took me 
in its grasp and flung me into his arms. 

I had hardly time to feel the embrace that 
responded to my impulsive outburst. I fled, 
blushing and confused, to the bench, and cov- 
ered my face with my hands, though this did 
not hinder me from getting a glimpse of the 
cure, whose air of mingled stupefaction, anger, 
and delight often came back to me afterwards. 

Dear Reine,’’ murmured Paul in my ear, 
if I had known your secret sooner, I should 
not have stayed away so long and so far from 
your side.^’ 

I did not answer, for I was weeping. 


266 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

He took one of my hands and held it in his, 
while, overpowered by a feeling of timidity I 
had never experienced before, I turned my 
head away from him and tried to withdraw it. 

No, let me hold this pretty little hand ; 
it is mine now. Turn your head round, 
Eeine.” 

I turned round and faced the fine, frank 
eyes that were smiling at me, crying : 

God be praised ! my uncle was right, you 
are not a white blackbird ! ” 

A white blackbird ? ” said he, surprised. 

“ Yes, my uncle asserted — but no. matter. 
Who told you what you were ignorant of at 
your departure ? ” 

“ My father, M. de Pavol, and many things 
I recollected during the last two months.” 

‘‘ It is quite true, then, that love engenders 
love, is it not ?” 1 asked innocently. 

‘‘ Nothing could be truer, my dear little 
fiancee ! ” 

How sweet that name sounded in my ears ! 
There was silence between us for a time, while 
the cure wept for joy, and the sparrows on 
the roof of the presbytery kept up their noisy 
chirruping, and the snails, escaping from the 
prison in which the cure had confined them, 
ran about on all sides. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 267 

Undoubtedly, the sparrow cannot be called 
an interesting bird : his plumage is dull and 
ugly, his cry is harsh, and he has been 
accused of being thievish and immoral, a 
charge I refused to credit ; nor am I aware, 
either, that there is anything very poetical 
about snails ; but ever since that moment I 
have adored sparrows and snails. 

I was in such a state of ecstacy that I 
feared I must be dreaming. I never grew 
tired of gazing at his face and listening to the 
voice I loved so well and feeling his hand in 
mine. Yet still, in spite of myself, the 
thought of her he had first loved haunted my 
mind and troubled my joy, though I did not 
dare to speak to him of my feelings. 

Does my uncle know you are here, 
Paul ? ’’ 

Yes ; I have come from Pavol, and I was 
firmly resolved to come alone in search of 
you. Does not the wet garden bring back 
something to your memory. Peine ? ” 

X did not answer his question directly, I 
only said : 

^^But you — you have not retained any 
pleasant recollections of Le Buisson, have 
you ? 

“ Pleasant recollections ? Well, I should 


268 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

say so ! I never spent sucli a delightful • 
evening in my life ! ” 

Indeed?” I answered, looking at him 
sidewise ; but then, my aunt was so horrible, 
don’t you think so ? ” 

No, no, not horrible, by any means. A 
little vulgar, perhaps ; but the contrast only 
served to render you the more charming.” 

And such a set of dishes .! And every- 
thing where it ought n’t to be ! ” 

I have never had so fine a dinner since. 
That tumble-down old barracks acted but as 
a foil to your beauty. You seemed like some 
flower that looked only the prettier and 
daintier because of the roughness and ugliness 
of the soil wherein it grew.” 

Why, Paul, your travels have made you 
quite a poet ! ” I said smilingly. 

Oh, no, not at all, my little Peine ! ” 

He passed my arm under his and led me 
aside. 

‘‘No, not a poet, cousin, but your lover. 
Listen well. Peine, — I love you as sincerely 
as woman was ever loved.” 

I enjoyed thoroughly the sweetness of his 
words and the look that accompanied them, 
and I said within my heart that it was fortu- 
nate, after all, men were so fickle. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 269 

Still, the change seemed to me incredible, 
and I could not help murmuring : 

Are you quite sure you no longer love her ? 
— that you do not love her just a little bit ? ” 

Should I speak to you as I do were it 
otherwise ? ” he answered very seriously. 
‘‘ Have you no faith in my loyalty ? ” 

Oh, yes ! ” I cried, clasping his arm affec- 
tionately with both my hands. 

And what I said was true ; after this an- 
swer of his the image of Blanche never 
troubled me again. I loved him unreservedly, 
without jealousy or distrust, and he well de- 
served my perfect faith in him. 

Why, yonder are my father and M. de 
Pavol, and they are evidently coming in this 
direction ! ” 

Well, niece, what is your opinion of my 
prediction now ? ” 

You have been very indiscreet, uncle,” I 
answered, blushing. 

^Ht was the major who revealed the secret, 
Reine. He knew it ever so long ago.” 

Oh, no, only about eight months ago ! ” 

Is it possible ? ” 

And Paul did not go among the Esqui- 
maux, after all,” said my uncle, laughing. 

How fortunate are those who live among 


270 MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 

kindly, open-hearted people ! I had a keen 
sense of this good fortune when I realized 
how heartily all my friends shared in my joy, 
and with what delicacy and good-nature they 
touched jestingly on that famous secret into 
which I had, unconsciously, let the whole 
world. 

Then began that most delightful of times, 
the time of our engagement. There is no pe- 
riod in the life of any one so exquisite as this. 
Nothing can ever replace the artless love, the 
entire faith, the childlike illusions that mark 
its course. Ah, how I pity those who have 
never experienced such love as this ! How I 
pity those who have been hurled by their own 
folly far from the common, beaten track and 
the safe pathway of legitimate affection ! I 
can never, never believe, no matter how elo- 
quent be the words employed to convince me, 
that real love can exist except it have esteem 
for its foundation. 

We spent some of our pleasantest days at 
the presbytery, chaperoned by the cure. We 
used to watch him as he bounced about in his 
garden, poling his plants, plucking up the 
weeds, and now and then pausing in his labors 
to dart a scrutinizing glance at the spot where 
we happened to be, in order to make us feel 
there was a vigilant mentor near at hand. 


MY UNCLE AND MY CURE. 271 

We interchanged a smile, for we knew 
something of old about the severity of this 
good-natured guardian of ours. 

I approached my excellent friend, pretend- 
ing to share his enthusiasm in connection with 
a flower, or shrub, or fruit, and said : 

My dear cure, do you remember the time 
when you tried to persuade me that love was 
not the most charming thing in the world ? ” 

^^Ah, my little child, I don’t think that 
even Bossuet himself could have convinced 
you to the contrary ! ” 

Come, now, be honest, was I not right ? ” 
I am beginning to believe you were,” he 
replied, with his kindly and fascinating smile. 

The dawn of my wedding d^y arose in 
radiant splendor. Never had the heavenly 
canopy looked more magnificent in my eyes. 
I have been assured since then that, on the 
contrary, the skies were as dark and cloudy 
as they well could be, but I do not believe a 
word of it. 

A sympathizing crowd filled the church, 
and such whispers could be heard as : 

What a pretty bride ! ” “ How composed 

and happy she looks ! ” 

It is, indeed, quite certain that my compos- 
ure was wonderful. 


272 MY UNCLE AND MY CUKE. 

But could I be otherwise than calm. The 
fondest desire of my heart was about to be 
fulfilled, a future of happiness was opening 
before me, and I had no anxiety about any- 
thing that could agitate me. 

I had a confused glimpse of some dowagers 
who smiled on me as I passed, and I remem- 
ber pitying them from my heart when I re- 
flected that they were tpo old to marry. 

The organ struck up such a joyous march 
that my prejudices against music were begin- 
ning to vanish somewhat. The altar was 
adorned with flowers and resplendent with 
tapers, and my eyes were delighted with all 
the decorative details, which were entirely 
due to the artistic taste of Juno. 

My husband put the wedding-ring on my 
finger with an unsteady hand, biting his 
pretty mustache to conceal the trembling of 
his lips. He was far more moved than I was, 
and his eyes told me a tale I should like to 
hear repeated forever. 

And if the entire earth and all the other 
planets of the universe were explored it 
would still have been impossible to find a 
face as radiant as that of my cure. 


THE END. 













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